Cold... ice... frozen... Would the torment ever end? When would it kill him? How many hours? How many more days before he would succumb to the cold? Time meant nothing now, as he lay there wrapped up in this white blanket of ice crystals. He'd tried to get to his feet, had tried to find a landmark that would tell him where he was, but surrounded by blinding ice, captured in its tendrils, he realized deep down in his heart that it wouldn't let him go. Finally, something had caught this thief and it would never again release him.

Cold... His body was frozen, paralyzed and all he could do was stare at the sky as the moon and stars appeared, driving away the little comfort the sun had offered. Remy knew he couldn't survive another night. His fingers refused to move, to feel the structure of the ice beneath them as they were frozen themselves. Frostbite. Which parts of his body hadn't yet surrendered to death? But still he was hanging in there by the skin of his teeth, fighting to stay alive.

Cold... His mind was going numb along with the descending darkness, but his body was still struggling to remain alive. Tongue frozen to lips, he couldn't close his eyes. He'd faced death many times, but it had never scared him this much, to die here, alone... all alone... Loneliness frightened him, actually hurt on a physical level. He'd never told the others about his charm power, and that he was sometimes capable of picking up emotions, reading them, sending them back to help comfort, or release the anger people bottled up inside. All he heard now was the pounding of his own heart; his panic and rage... his helplessness.

Cold... Her heart had to be colder than the ice of Antarctica. She'd said she loved him and yet she'd left him here to die and the others hadn't come back for him either. Why would they? After all, he'd betrayed them, betrayed the Morlocks. He was no longer one of them, no longer an X-Man and he wondered... had he ever been one of them? He'd always felt the outsider.

Cold... had been their jokes, the remarks he had overheard when he had gotten home late. They'd always assumed he'd been intimate with someone, man or woman. One night he'd eavesdropped, standing in the corridor and had heard Warren call him a whore... It had hurt. //Strange, de t'ings y' remember when dyin'.// He'd always hidden behind his walls, afraid for them to learn the truth he felt so ashamed of and thus they had drawn their own conclusions. But he'd rather have them call him a whore than a traitor... Seemed he was both, now... If only he could grin at fate, which had played him so cruelly.

Cold... he shivered as the chill climbed up his body. He no longer felt his feet, legs, or hands. How much longer before it reached his heart? When would it end? Why did he have to die alone? A muffled scream left his lips as he tried to find something alive in this horrid cold. Never before had he used his mental abilities in this manner, had never stretched them this far, and still there was nothing..., nothing.

"Mon fils, y're safe." Jean-Luc... his voice was warm, it always had been. Remy wished he'd had the chance to tell his father good-bye and the rest of the family. While living with the LeBeau clan he'd experienced love and acceptance for the first time in his short life. It hadn't mattered to them that Jean-Luc had adopted him, that he wasn't his flesh and blood... or that he was a mutant; his red eyes had always given him away. Desperately, he reached for the memories, for the feelings, the affection, his father's pride as he'd earned his membership to the Thieves Guild.

///

Hours drifted by and the cold was still increasing. It had now firmly slithered inside his bones. If he could only charge something with his energy! Its warmth might keep him alive a little longer. Mon Dieu, he'd never craved being alive as badly as now and vowed to fight to the end, which would come soon. The starlit sky had darkened and he realized he was slowly losing consciousness. This was the end.

"What are you doing here?"

A voice? It hovered at the edge of his consciousness and Remy picked up strong feelings, emotions... something alive...

"Well, you can tell me later."

Struggling to hold on to this spark of warmth, Remy refused to give in to the inhumane cold. He had to fight it! Not yet, he couldn't give up yet... had to stay awake... not yet... but oblivion came anyway.

///

The cold was gone. It was the first thing he noticed when he started to wake up, but then Remy realized with a fright that he could hardly move. His body was paralyzed and although he struggled to open his eyes, fatigue was all consuming so he had to give up. Stretched out on some kind of bed, he relished its softness and warmth, which seemed to caress his brittle skin.

The cold was gone. He was no longer alone and although he was still too tired to make an effort to identify the person close to him, Remy distinctly felt a presence, a strong one. Someone was close, maybe not in this room, but close enough for him to sense it. Knowing someone was looking after him confused him, and he apprehensively waited for the things to come. Anything was better than being alone.

Absolutely relishing the fact that the air around him was no longer icy cold, he drew in a deep breath. Soft fabric covered his cold body and as it moved over his naked skin, Remy wondered who'd brought him here and why. He vaguely remembered a voice, a man's voice, but wasn't sure whether the voice had sounded familiar or not. Everything he'd heard or sensed when he had been laying on the ice felt strangely distorted.

Shivering, he remembered the cold, the mind numbing cold and the loneliness it had brought with it. He'd expected to die there after Rogue had dropped him onto the ice pack and again the questions circled in his mind. Why hadn't she helped him? Why had she left? Had she decided this was punishment and had she sentenced him to death? No matter how hard he tried he couldn't understand her actions. Remy doubted she would ever give him those answers and he never wanted to see her again.

"You should try to get more sleep."

The sound of a determined voice should have startled him, but it didn't. The fact that he hadn't even heard any footsteps and hadn't sensed the presence approach told him he was exhausted. Yes, the voice sounded familiar. If only his eyes would open, but they remained stubbornly closed. Whose voice was it?

"I'll be back later."

"Wait," Remy managed to whisper in a rough tone. Well, at least his lips obeyed him! "Who...?" Then exhaustion struck and his voice deserted him.

"Later," the stranger replied in a soft tone.

"Wanna know!" he murmured drained, but sleep snuck up on him. Remy tried raising his hand in an effort to stop the man from leaving, but his body was made out of ice and refused to cooperate. Trapped. He felt trapped and his stomach contorted with remembered fear. It wasn't the first time he had been at someone's mercy and he begun to panic. He had been trapped before when he'd been a kid roaming the streets. A lot of weirdos had tried taking advantage of a street kid and at times he'd had no way out. Remy shivered violently as he wondered if this stranger had the same thing in mind for him now.

"Later," the man insisted.

Sighing, Remy gave in. At least his body wasn't hurting that badly any longer, it had gone strangely numb. Using his last bit of strength he moved his left arm. The movement told him that he wasn't being restrained and that knowledge calmed him down. He'd done a few dumb things when he had been a street kid, before Jean-Luc had adopted him, things he wasn't proud of, but he'd needed money to buy food. Going home with strangers had also provided him with a place to sleep, but sleeping in a bed had hardly compensated him for the pain, which had been inflicted on him in return. In those days all he'd cared about had been money, food and shelter. That was how he had survived.

And all he wanted now was company. Remy didn't want to be alone, not after they'd deserted *him*, the traitor. When he had joined the X-Men he should have realized they would find out the truth at one point, but... Remy had hoped it would have taken them much longer. He had almost forgotten about the stranger, when his voice suddenly reminded him of his presence.

"If you won't go back to sleep, I'll have to give you a sedative. I'm not a doctor and would hate adding to your discomfort."

Not a doctor... the admission drifted into his mind, so where the hell was he? "Mon Dieu, where did y' take m'?" Remy asked in a shaky tone as his teeth refused to stop chattering.

"You're stubborn," the man replied with faint amusement in his voice. "But what else to expect from one of Charles' students?"

"Y' know m'?" Remy was fighting hard not to fall asleep. If only he could convince his eyes to stay open! And where had he heard that voice before?

"Yes, Gambit, and now you're going to sleep."

Hearing his name Remy, apprehensively wondered whether he was in trouble again. If the man knew his identity, he might also know he'd betrayed the X-Men and Morlocks... Why had he walked in to Sinister's trap? When he had recruited the Marauders he hadn't known Sinister planned to wipe out the Morlocks with his help. If only he'd known back then what he knew now! He would never have agreed to help Sinister. The name still sent nervous shivers down his cold spine and a terrible feeling of regret overwhelmed him. He was responsible for so many deaths!

Unexpectedly, sleep crashed in on him and he suspected the stranger had lived up to his promise and had fed him sleeping meds. It looked like he had no choice, he was going back to sleep whether he wanted to or not.

"I'm going to contact Charles," the stranger announced, determinedly.

"Non!" Remy exclaimed in panic, uncertain where he had gotten the strength from to make that statement. "Non, don' do dat!" The plea sapped the little strength he'd left and hurled him into a deep sleep. 'I'm going to contact Charles now...' The words kept ringing in his mind and Remy desperately hoped the man hadn't informed the X-Men that he was still alive. Shifting uncomfortably on the bed, he slipped into a state between waking and unconsciousness. The cold returned and his teeth chattered, as he pulled the blankets closer to his shivering body. "Non, don' contact him!" he whispered. Remy didn't want them to know he was still alive. He didn't even want to know why he was thinking like this, all he wanted was to feel warm and to sense this presence, which radiated life and... concern?

Suddenly feeling a lot more awake he focused on that emotion. Concern? Why would anyone be concerned about *him*? Maybe the man didn't know what he had done in the past? That might explain it, because even Rogue had felt it necessary to leave him out there. So many times he'd tried to show her how much he loved her. He had even kissed her... and had paid for that folly when she'd learned bits and pieces of his past. Remy had even been prepared to deny himself her touch... That had always been hard for him, to deny himself touch.

Touching skin was... beyond words. Skin contact enabled him to perceive someone's emotions more clearly. He craved soothing their worries or when it had been a lover touching him, to send back the pleasure he was experiencing. During such intimate moments he had often wondered if the other realized what he was doing. If they ever did, it had never showed.

Did the professor know about his charm power? It had never occurred to him to tell Charles Xavier about it and he didn't want people to know all his tricks, even if this power frequently got him in to trouble. Remy vividly remembered a time when he'd drunk a little too much of the bubbly and suddenly Logan had been eyeing him appreciatively. Remembering the expression in Logan's eyes still made him chuckle. He had learned to control it to a certain degree, but when he'd lived on the streets it had only brought him trouble. Sinister elements had found themselves drawn to him and all he’d been able to do back then, was to run for his life... and run hard!

Slowly, he regained his senses and opened his eyes, hoping the light wouldn't blind him. Peeking through half closed eyelids he sighed relieved at the sight of dimmed lights. It took great effort to cock his head and take in the room, which certainly didn't look like a hospital room. 'I'm not a doctor,' the stranger had said and that revelation only confused him more. Where was he and who was this man who had taken him in?

///

Sensing the now familiar presence coming closer he quickly closed his eyes, no need to give away the small advantage he'd got. This man didn't need to know he was awake. Noise emanated from his right and he realized the stranger had put something down on the table. He tried hard and focused on this person's emotions and again a wave of concern and... curiosity hit him but there was no hint of malice. Slightly reassured he cracked open his eyes.

"So you finally got tired of pretending you're asleep?" the man said approvingly.

Baffled, Remy stared at the stranger's face and at first he was convinced it was Joseph, the Magneto clone Rogue had shoved under his nose some time ago. Then he understood his mistake. This wasn't the clone. This was the real thing! "Magneto?" Remy stuttered amazed, realizing he was in dire straits.

"Ah, you recognize me. Erik Magnus Lensherr," he introduced himself with a nod of his head. "Or Magneto, to others." Carefully, he studied Gambit's expression. The young man was stunned and Magneto decided to take this slow. Gambit had been near death when he had found him on the ice and it actually amazed him that Gambit was recovering this quickly.

"I don' understan'," Remy muttered.

"Of course you don't," Magneto replied and inclined his head. "I have tried hard to keep this base secret." And he wasn't going to give up its location now. Gambit didn't need to know its exact location. He had doubted his decision to help the young mutant, but found it impossible to turn his back on Gambit.

"Base?"

"Are you going to repeat every word I say?" Magneto said and pulled up a chair. The look on Gambit's face was hard to decipher, but his instincts told him the young man was clinging to too many secrets for his own good. "I'm no cook either, this will have to do," Magneto said and offered Gambit the soup he had warmed earlier.

Speechless, and that was something that didn't happen often, Remy stared at the bowl of soup Magneto had brought along. Steam floated through the room and he craved feeling that hot liquid running down his throat, but as Remy moved his hands underneath the blanket they stung painfully and he had to stop.

"Reduced to a nurse," Magneto sighed, smiling weakly at the sight of Gambit's pain filled eyes. Shaking his head, he placed the bowl at Remy's lips. "Drink this slowly."

Remy swallowed obediently and coughed as the burning liquid made its way into his stomach. It seemed like he had never before felt anything this warm. "Why are y' doin' dis?" Remy asked, trying to recall everything he'd read in Magneto's file. The professor had told them to study it extensively, but Remy had never had the necessary time to memorize everything.

"You're a mutant," Magneto said, placing the empty bowl back on the table and rearranging the blankets. "I protect my kind." It was the truth. Although Charles and he had different opinions in how to help mutants he would never turn his back on a mutant that needed help, even if it was an X-Man. Again he wondered about the feelings flowing through him as he stared into the red on black eyes, so clearly marking Gambit a mutant. He'd fought the X-Men before, even knew Gambit's file, but had never felt attracted to him. His instincts were telling him something odd was going on and that he had to remain extremely vigilant.

"Dat simple?" Remy muttered mystified. He'd never thought Magneto would help an X-Man and certainly not him.

"Yes," Magneto said with a hint of confusion as something urged him to protect the younger man. He made a mental note to find out what was going on. "But I've got a lot of questions for you to answer." Magneto never expected Gambit to panic at hearing that remark.

"Non," Remy objected as fiercely as he could muster. "Not aujourd'hui."

//That French again,// Magneto thought fatigued. Closely observing Gambit he registered the growing anxiety on the man's face and realized with a start that it was also affecting him. The first thing he was going to do was get more information on this man. "In English please," Magneto requested, the meaning of the French word eluding him.

"Today," Remy whispered, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep, still unable to believe Magneto had found him in that frozen hell and had cared enough to rescue him. The look the man was giving him caused goose flesh to appear all over his body.

"I'm willing to let you rest a little longer. When I found you, you were barely alive," Magneto conceded, giving in for now. It was apparent Gambit was nervous, perhaps even afraid and he didn't want to upset him further. But the young man's features were handsome and his eyes compelling. Startled by his line of thought, Magneto recomposed himself. It wasn't like him to feel sexually attracted to a stranger. Was Gambit somehow manipulating him?

"Merci," Remy mumbled and closed his eyes again. He sensed Magneto's intentions were genuine and as he drifted off in to this chilly sleep Remy wondered, upset, whether Magneto had informed the X-Men or not...

Magneto halted as he reached the doorway and gave Gambit one last probing look. There was more going on here than met the eye and he was going to find out what it was!

///

Hours later, Remy woke again. This time he felt strong enough to actually try and move his hands. The ache had lessened slightly, but the chilly, burning sensation was still there. Hesitantly he brought them up from underneath the blankets and only then did he realize he was wrapped up in several thick woollen blankets. Staring at the back of his hands he still envisioned seeing the white color they had possessed hours, or was it days, ago?

His hands trembled, shook viciously and he quickly buried them again underneath the fabric. No matter how many blankets warmed him, Remy still felt the ice inside his bones. How long had he been out there? Two nights... How had he survived? He should have died that first night, so why hadn't he? Maybe his mutant powers had kept him alive? Maybe his *energy* had kept him alive. Remy had never thought he would ever be glad to possess these powers.

He felt slightly exultant for having survived that frozen hell, but then he remembered where he was and who was looking after him. Magneto. What was the man doing here in the first place? Remy still wasn't sure whether he was relieved to be alive or sad because he hadn't died out there. Being alive meant facing his dark deeds and he wasn't sure he could ever do that, not after Rogue had left him there to die.

One thing he knew for sure was that he could never go back to the mansion, could never face them, especially not Warren, for the pain he had caused. Remy could forgive Rogue for leaving him behind, could forgive her for her judgment call. He probably didn't deserve better after all the deaths he'd caused, and Warren would *never* forgive him.

Remy had felt his terrible pain when Warren had lost his wings. Seldom had he felt such agony and he'd wished he had been able to reach out to soothe that pain, to lessen the hurt, but he was the one who had caused it in the first place. He had no right to comfort the victim. Maybe Rogue had been right to leave him out there to die. How could anyone forgive the things he'd done?

Unable to deal with these thoughts right now, Remy pushed them away and focused on his present situation, at least he *tried* to concentrate on the mess he was in. Apparently Magneto had a base in this hell and Remy stored that information away for the future. But why bother? It wasn't like he was going back to tell the X-Men about it, and that was one thing he truly regretted, Remy had always liked Storm and he would miss her greatly.

"Get to y'r feet!" he told himself in an angry tone, lying here like this made him feel vulnerable. He was already emotionally messed up and the last thing he wanted was to voluntarily add to his own discomfort.

"That would be an unwise thing to do," Magneto chastised. "You need the rest, and you're in no danger from me." It surprised him that Gambit hadn't noticed his arrival.

"Why do I find dat hard to believe?" Remy asked and quickly scanned the entrance. Magneto wasn't wearing his helm and the look on his face surprised him. The eyes were remarkably soft and Magneto's smile warm.

"You don't trust people, do you?" Magneto countered and leaned casually against the wall. It would take him a long time to make this youngster open up to him.

"Have no reason to," Remy whispered and bit down the hurt. Suddenly he recognized the look on Magneto's face. Mon Dieu... was he responsible for that attraction? Immediately he blocked the charm power, trying hard to undo the damage. The last thing he needed was for Magneto to physically want him. It must have been his confusion allowing his charm power to flow free, but Remy knew he was too weak to constantly suppress it. When he would fall asleep he'd lose his grip on it again and the way he was now he could never fight off Magneto.

"I studied your record," Magneto said slowly and drew in a deep breath as the crushing emotions of want and protection weakened. So, his suspicions had been correct. He would have to address this matter soon, but Gambit withdrawing his influence like this confirmed what he had suspected all along, the Cajun had no real control over this ability. Remembering their topic he said, "Charles needs to secure his files in a better way."

"What do y' want from me?" Remy asked in a shaky voice, ice packed memories pressing deeper into his mind. He didn't want them! He didn't want to remember his failure! He knew what he had done and *what* he was.

"I don't know yet," Magneto revealed as he took a step closer, determined to proceed but with caution. "Your ability to charge objects and even flesh with energy is... interesting, but hardly of use to me." He paused briefly, "But then again, you've got other talents as well, haven't you?" Charles' notes had been incomplete on Gambit's mental powers and he had to trust his instincts to guide him through this conversation.

Pretending ignorance, Remy stared into Magneto's eyes, trying to look unimpressed, but failing miserably. "I don' know what y're talkin' 'bout."

"You see, Remy," Magneto said and put emphasis on the fact that he knew his name. "My research is quite extensive and unlike Charles I also use sources of a more... criminal nature." He had chosen to use the Cajun's name on purpose as he wanted to try and gain the young man's trust.

Remy's fingers touched the blanket, ready to charge it, as he was unsure of Magneto's plans. Did the man want to use him for his plans as Sinister had? No way he'd cooperate and make the same mistake twice! He'd rather die. "What do y' want?"

Suddenly, Magneto's expression changed as if realizing something that had previously totally eluded him. Magneto remained quiet, thinking about his next step. "Are you a telepath?" he asked, uncertain how to formulate his question.

"Non," Remy replied quickly, too quickly and looked away. He couldn't tell his enemy about the charm power.

"You're lying," Magneto stated, correctly reading the expression in those red on black eyes. How to explain to Gambit that he didn't want to harm him?

"Je suis honnête!" Remy exclaimed angered, trying to calm himself down. Remy couldn't help reverting back to his native tongue and that fact indicated how stressed out he really was.

Magneto shook his head. "It's been a long time since I spoke French," he said slightly amused. "But I understand what you're trying to say." Was it possible that Gambit didn't know the extent of his mental powers? Magneto regretted upsetting the young man and suddenly noticed the hurt look on his face. He'd seen that look before...

"I ain' a telepat'!" he repeated in a futile attempt to convince Magneto and himself.

"But the scans indicate unusual neural activity," Magneto stated. "Are you going to tell me the truth or do I have to drag it all out of you?" He hoped he wasn't coming on too strong, being left for dead on the ice would traumatize anyone.

"Why do y' want to know?" Remy asked, feeling cornered, how could this 'ability' show up on Magneto's scans if even the professor couldn't detect it? Magneto sat down and stared hard at him. Remy gathered his courage and returned that stare. This was the X-Men's worst adversary and he wouldn't give him any inside information. He wasn't that dumb, even though he was a traitor.

Magneto released a sigh, and shifted on the chair. "I think we've got a misunderstanding here. As I said before, you're in no danger from me." He had to reassure Remy, but realized that words wouldn't be enough. If he was reading the other man right, Gambit had been hurt too many times to trust anyone.

"Hard to believe," Remy countered, knowing Magneto's reputation only too well. The man was probably thinking about a way to get him out of here without his base's location becoming known and that meant feet first in Remy’s experience. So, he was going to die anyway.

"I see," Magneto murmured and pondered his next move. "Are you feeling any better? Your body was almost frozen when I found you." He changed the topic on purpose, trying to back away from whatever had upset Remy so much.

Frozen... why did he have to use that word? Shivers racked his body and Remy pushed himself deeper in to the blankets. "A lil' better," he admitted gingerly, uncertain why Magneto was showing this much interest in his condition.

"You must be wondering why I was out there in the first place," Magneto said, offering bait he knew Remy couldn't resist.

And before Remy knew it, he had taken it. "Oui," he replied softly.

"I registered the fighting, but preferred to stay out of the battle." It was the truth. The battle had taken him by surprise and he had still been trying to figure out what had happened when the fighting had stopped. Then he had witnessed Rogue dropping Gambit onto the ice. Seeing that no one was coming to the rescue he'd decided to take Remy in himself.

Remy's eyes sought out Magneto's and sent him an unspoken question. Why had he come out of hiding? Magneto nodded his head as if he'd received the message and Remy shivered seeing that confirmation.

"Rogue left you behind, and the others didn't come back for you," Magneto stated honestly.

His words tore open the closing wound. "Oui, dey left Remy behind," he said in a vulnerable tone and before Remy knew it, he was talking about himself in the third person. Was he that upset?

Magneto remained quiet and Remy wasn't going to enlighten him. An awkward silence wrapped itself around the young man and suddenly his charm powers lashed out, reaching out to Magneto, needing to know he was safe. Needing to know that someone cared for him, for whatever reason that might be.

Magneto's eyes tightened and Remy trembled as those eyes completely focused on him. It took him a moment to regain control over the charm power. Remy didn't know what to make of Magneto's reaction. Had the other man felt him reach out?

"You should learn to control that," Magneto started and seemed to search for a word to add, "Remy." The sensation had taken him by surprise, but he had recognized the manipulation. He had experienced the same thing when he had found Remy in the snow. However, the amount of fear in the young man's eyes startled him.

Magneto's answer confirmed Remy's fear. Somehow, Magneto had picked up on him losing control, but how?

"I've had too many telepaths in my mind not to register that. If you aren't a telepath... what are you then?" he asked in a soft tone and leaned in closer. He had to prevent Gambit from spiraling down in to fear.

Remy jerked as far away as the blankets allowed him to, praying Magneto didn't have *that* look in his eyes. The expression that said that he was about to be claimed by the older mutant as his possession. At times he really hated the charm power for the trouble it got him into. "Can' control it," Remy explained softly as his body tensed in fearful apprehension.

"I had guessed as much," Magneto said kindly, intent on taking away that fear. "I want you to explain it to me."

"How? Don' understand it m'self," Remy whispered, upset.

"What does it do?"

Remy desperately tried to find a way to explain it to him. "Charm power," he started, "can read y'r emotions, can send dem back." It sounded dumb the way he tried to explain something so complex, but the truth was he had never thought about it that deeply before.

"And you can't control it?" Magneto said with a hint of sadness in his tone.

"Non, not completely," he admitted and tentatively looked up at Magneto. That tone had taken him aback, as if the other man knew...

"I'm surprised that Charles didn't offer you his help, after all, this is his field of expertise." Magneto closely studied Remy and realized the fear was slowly receding, maybe because of the clinical way they were discussing this.

Remy was tremendously relieved to see Magneto's eyes were lucid and didn't resemble the ones which had chased him down the streets when he had been a kid... when they had tried getting their hands on him. They had succeeded too often, and Remy shuddered at that memories.

"You didn't tell him?" Magneto said and laughed warmly in disbelief. "You managed to keep this from Charles?" The next moment he turned serious again as he realized that decision must have added greatly to Gambit's pain. "That must mean you've got formidable shields." //Or,// he added in thought, //Charles detected it, but respected Remy's wish not to discuss it.//

"Only blockin' de charm power," Remy objected weakly unable to deny Magneto's statement. Xavier might suspect he had mental powers, but didn't know for sure and Remy wanted to keep it that way. He needed every advantage he could get, even if it was a double-edged sword.

"You really made things hard on yourself," Magneto concluded in earnest, but didn't explain his comment.

"Pourquoi?" Remy asked surprised. How had Magneto reached that conclusion?

"We'll talk later." Magneto got to his feet and pushed back the chair. First, he needed to do more research concerning this phenomenon. But before he left he wanted to be sure Remy hadn't developed a fever.

Remy silently watched as Magneto's hand gently settled down on his brow and he flinched at the contact, uncertain why Magneto was doing this.

"You still feel cold. Get some sleep and I'll bring something to eat the next time I visit you," Magneto said in a tone that allowed no room for argument. He'd noticed the flinch, the subconscious response that revealed fear.

"Did y' contact de Professeur?' Remy asked, as he needed to know that answer.

"No," Magneto replied, still slightly mystified. "I'll honor your request, but I expect answers later." Maybe now that he'd been forced in to this situation Remy would face some of his problems, but he couldn't push the young man too hard now.

"Oui," Remy whispered relieved. "Y'll get dem," feeling confidant he would be able to make up answers that would satisfy Magneto's curiosity.

"Good," Magneto stated and walked towards the doorway. "And I suggest you try to keep that 'charm power' under control while you're here." He doubted Remy could do that, but the last thing he wanted was to lose his control as well.

Remy nodded his head fatigued, hoping it wouldn't reach out again. But what about when he was asleep? Only then did he register the odd tone Magneto had used when referring to it. Too tired and cold to consider all answers, Remy chose to fall asleep instead.

Magneto turned and quietly left the room, heading back to his computer console.

///

After having stifled a yawn Remy pushed back the blankets and tried to get his feet on the floor. Magneto had visited him an hour ago and had kept his promise to bring him some food, mostly soup and fruit, but it had appeased his growling stomach and he felt grateful for the other man's care.

Suddenly, Remy realized that he wasn't wearing any clothes underneath the layer of blankets and he couldn't help wondering why Magneto had undressed him. The possible answers frightened him and he quickly pushed them away.

Hugging several blankets Remy pulled them closer to his cold body. Thankfully the floor didn't feel cold and he suspected Magneto had raised the room's temperature to make him feel more comfortable. What would the man expect in return?

Remy carefully avoided thinking about that question, knowing that nothing was free in life. There was always a price, always. Shivering, he remembered another time when he’d had to pay for food and shelter. In a bizarre way, his childhood memories snuck back up on him. Only Jean-Luc knew what he'd done to survive and at times Remy had even felt ashamed for telling the man who loved him as a son, the bitter truth.

Biting his lip, Remy forced himself to place his weight on his feet and suddenly he knew he'd made a mistake. He wasn't yet up to getting out of bed! But Remy wasn't about to give up. In order to take care of himself he had to get out of this place before Magneto demanded his reward, but where to go? Going back to the X-Men mansion wasn't an option and he couldn't show up at home. He had to stay clear of the Thieves and Assassins guilds. So why was he bothering to escape? Embittered, he chuckled softly. No one wanted ol' Remy.

"What do you think you're doing? Get back in bed!"

Magneto's tone made him smile, as he tasted concern in the words. Remy didn't protest and lowered himself back on to the bed. Yes, maybe staying here wasn't such a bad thing after all, he could pay Magneto's price. At a young age he had learned what a man wanted from him and he'd been through it enough times to accept the pain involved.

"You still owe me some answers," Magneto pointed out and pulled the blankets back in to place, complimenting himself on the idea to check on Remy. The young man was in no condition to attempt an escape.

"Den ask me questions," Remy replied resigned and closed his eyes.

"Why did they leave you behind?" Magneto asked curiously. He had only seen bits and pieces of the fight.

This was it. Briefly, Remy considered lying but his senses told him that this man would detect any deceit. "I betrayed them," he said eventually and his accent weakened as Remy pondered his words, searching for a way to compose them more carefully.

"In what way?" Magneto asked; his expression blank. This was an admission he hadn't expected, but before judging Remy he should give the man a chance to explain his words. "How did you betray them?"

"Before I joined de X-Men I worked for Sinister. Didn't know who he was at de time," Remy tried to explain but couldn't find the right words. "I led de Marauders into the tunnels and they slaughtered the Morlocks." Magneto's expression hardened and Remy mentally prepared himself to receive feelings of disgust. He was still blocking the charm power, but... he was slowly losing control.

"Why did you want the Morlocks dead?" Magneto asked in a chilly tone. Had he made such a mistake in judgment? Had Gambit willingly killed them?

Tasting blood on his lip Remy shook his head. "I never wanted dat to happen! Remy didn' know dey would kill dem!" And he couldn't keep back the tears any longer or the guilt as he'd realized the terrible consequences of his former actions. "Remy didn' want dat to happen!" Tears flowed down his face as he remembered the horrible revelation in the eyes of his teammates… his former teammates! He didn't notice that the charm power was escaping his control.

"Calm yourself!" Magneto exclaimed in a similar emotional tone. The amount of pain, grief, regret and guilt suddenly flowing into his mind made him reel. "Calm yourself, Remy," he repeated and hoped the young man realized what he was doing. Unable to block the feelings, Magneto tried to examine the emotions. It was obvious Remy hadn't known about Sinister's plans and suddenly he understood the mistake the X-Men had made. They'd assumed Gambit had willingly betrayed the mutants, but the unfortunate young man had been tricked.

"What?" Staring in to Magneto's eyes, Remy saw his own pain reflected in them. Merde! It was his charm power, cut loose, and he quickly pulled the pain back in to his mind where it belonged. "Je suis désolé. S'il vous plaît me pardoner," Remy whispered, lapsing back in to French, asking Magneto to forgive him the intrusion in to his mind. He had lost control too often recently. Remy didn't understand the pitiful look Magneto shot him. Raising a hand he quickly dried his tears. He hated being this emotional, but after what had happened lately...

"I misjudged you," Magneto sighed and knew what he had to do. Remy tried to cut him short, to tell Magneto that he didn't deserve any leniency, but the older man's eyes silenced him.

Breathlessly, Remy waited for Magneto to address him again and inwardly he cringed.

"I assumed you had *willingly* betrayed our kind. But you were tricked by Sinister. He is also my enemy." Magneto drew a deep breath and composed himself. He truly felt sorry for this young mutant. "This... charm power of yours is unsettling," he added, relieved to feel it flow away.

"Oui," Remy agreed and tried dealing with this admission. Tricked by Sinister... if it only were that simple! The X-Men would never see it that way and Warren certainly wouldn't believe that! "C'est ennui."

"What kind of trouble?" Magneto asked and then raised his hand as if trying to remember something. "When I brought you here I felt deeply protective of you... even attracted to you," he whispered and hoped he had reached the wrong conclusion.

Remy swallowed the lump, which had formed in his throat. What could he tell Magneto? How much? Magneto leaned in closer, the older man's breath caressing his brow. If he lost control now Magneto might go mad with lust and he tightly controlled it.

"Sex," Magneto said softly. "I smell it on you." It was only an educated guess but one that hit target.

That remark, coming from Magneto scared the hell out of Remy. He was certain he was controlling the charm power, so how? "Oui," he replied intimidated and wondered if the other men had also smelled sex on him when they had tried to convince him to go home with them in exchange for money.

"And you can't control it," Magneto added thoughtfully. Suddenly everything made sense.

A wave of pity and compassion spiraled down at Remy and Magneto was the origin. Confused, he looked up but avoided Magneto's eyes, certain the man had figured out what 'trouble' it had gotten him into in the past.

"I'm not going to touch you," Magneto stated suddenly and backed a few steps away. "I'm in control of my emotions." Even without the charm power Remy must have been an easy target and he vividly remembered the things he had seen the guards do to prisoners during his time in the Nazi camp. The soldiers had often made predatory advances to orphans or children whose parents or siblings were ill, and he had seen those children's eyes after they had returned with food or medicine. Remy's eyes carried that same expression.

Remy knew with certainty that Magneto had guessed the truth and hid his face underneath the blankets. Suddenly, the charm power broke loose; he no longer had any strength left to keep it locked up inside. This was what he'd been afraid of the entire time. A warm, *warm* hand caressed his hair and he flinched at the touch, knowing what would follow shortly.

"Remy?" Magneto said gently as he recognized the alien emotions in his mind. He didn't allow them to affect him though, clinging to his memories instead.

"Non," Remy sobbed. "Pas encore. Il endommage." He simply couldn't accept the pain again, a pain he had thought of as belonging to the past.

"It hurts?" Magneto translated. "I understand. I had better leave you alone then." For both their sakes he had to put distance between them and to recompose himself.

In disbelief Remy listened to retreating footsteps. Confused, he gathered his senses. He'd unwillingly unleashed the charm power and Magneto hadn't taken advantage of it? Impossible! No one had ever managed -or was it wanted?- to resist the charm power! Slightly reassured he searched the room with his eyes, but his senses told him Magneto was gone. "Vous remercier, mon Dieu," Remy whispered; relieved Magneto had been strong enough to leave the room. This time he had been spared.

///

Remy spent the next hours listening to his own heartbeat and concentrating on feeling the blood flowing through his veins. He knew he could recover from being exposed to this frozen hell, but it would take him a lifetime. Determined, Remy made a second attempt to get to his feet and this time he succeeded. Clutching the blankets, he slowly made his way over to the doorway and peeked outside. The building was bigger than he'd expected. Then he remembered Magneto had referred to it as a base of operations and he wondered why the door to his room wasn't locked. Magneto should know better than to let a thief roam his base!

For the first time since this mess had started Remy allowed himself a genuine smile. It almost felt like Magneto trusted him to not do anything wrong. Stupid man! As Remy wandered the corridors, he wished he knew where he was headed. He was going on instinct, allowing his senses to guide him and he felt drawn closer to Magneto, the only living presence here. They were alone here? What had he gotten himself into this time? He had to be crazy to actually seek out Magneto!

"You should come inside and sit down," Magneto said warmly upon detecting the soft footfalls closing in on him.

Remy leaned against the wall for support and wondered how Magneto knew he was hiding there. Was he losing his skills?

"I knew your curiosity would take you here sooner or later," Magneto explained and switched off the main screen. There was no need to tell Gambit that the alarm system had also alerted him.

Remy walked towards the chair Magneto pointed out to him and slowly sat down. "Why would I be curious?" he asked, surprised. Magneto leaned back and studied him. Remy felt uncomfortable under that look and wondered what Magneto wanted from him. Locked up like this, it was only a question of time before the charm power eluded his control and its full potential would hit Magneto. It had happened before... it would happen again. He should accept what would happen instead of fighting it, that way it would hurt less.

"The X-Men... did you tell them of your charm power? I know you hid it from Charles but..." This question had occupied him for some time. He knew Remy hadn't known Sinister's plans, so why hadn't the X-Men believed him?

Remy's mouth went dry, only Jean-Luc knew the absolute truth about him. "Non, dey don' know," Remy admitted, shyly.

"Why are you so intent on keeping this secret?" Magneto asked, frustrated. "This 'ability' must have caused you pain in the past." And was still causing the young mutant pain.

"What can dey do?" Remy asked in return. His face had turned flustered and he stared at the floor as he added, "Dey t'ink Remy is a whore."

A silence, heavy and threatening, emanated from Magneto and it almost caused Remy to bolt from the room. Only the fact that he was still too weak to run kept him back. "Didn' t'ink saying dat would hurt so much," Remy whispered and he kept the pain, the shame, everything tightly sealed within him.

"Can you blame them?" Magneto said with a hint of strong disapproval. "You never told them the truth!" A moment later he regretted his harsh tone. Remy didn't deserve that, but the young man's expression made him realize the truth. Remy felt terribly ashamed.

"Don' know how," Remy mumbled. When Magneto suddenly grabbed his hands he tried to get away from the older man, but in his current state he was no match for him. Panicking, he waited for the inevitable.

"You've got to stop feeling sorry for yourself, Remy, and face who and what you are. Trust me," Magneto said in a choked tone, "I know staring your demons in the eyes is hard. I've been there." Maybe if he shared some of his history with Remy, the young man would be more inclined to open up. It was imperative that Remy started to deal with this. Why hadn't Charles insisted Remy learned to handle his ability? Had his friend thought that it would only do more harm than good without Remy's voluntary cooperation?

"Never t'ought you possessed a conscience," Remy confessed in a shaky tone, surprised by the sudden change in conversation.

"I've seen fear, Remy. I've felt pain, witnessed the holocaust. I have a good idea what happened to cause this hurt. Some children didn't have much of a choice in the camps, and you..." Magneto hoped Remy would truly listen to him this time.

"Camps?" Remy repeated, wondering what Magneto was talking about. Was the mutant actually discussing his past with him and what could Magneto have seen that came close to his childhood?

"World War II. I'm Jewish," Magneto sighed, seeing the genuine compassion on Remy's face. Some of it was even seeping in to his mind.

Blinking his eyes Remy cocked his head. "Y' survived?" Yes, perhaps Magneto could picture his youth.

Unwilling to address this issue any further Magneto said, "You can stay here until you've regained most of your strength, but then I'm going to take you back to Charles." He had managed to arouse Remy's interest and that would have to do for now. They had to do this in small steps or he would chase the young man away.

"Non," Remy pleaded in a broken tone, "I can' face dem! Stormy..." Utterly surprised, he looked at Magneto who chuckled at that name. Apologetically, Remy shrugged his shoulders.

"Stormy? And you get away with calling her that?" Magneto said, truly amused.

"Oui," Remy replied and couldn't repress a grin, but then reality hit him again. "She's de leader of de Morlocks... she'll hate Remy now."

The sadness in that statement echoed in the room and Magneto squeezed Remy's cold hands. Somehow he had to redirect that pain, distract Remy. There was too much pain in those red eyes. "Do you always do that? Speak about yourself in third person when you're upset?"

Baffled, Remy mentally replayed that question. Only Jean-Luc had ever asked him that. "Oui." Feeling tired, Remy's control started to slip and sleep made his eyes close.

"You do realize it's a way to detach yourself from whatever you went through as a child? Making it seem like those things happened to someone called Remy, not to *you*... thinking like that is a defense mechanism." Magneto said softly. Several survivors of the camp he had been in had reacted in the same way once the war had been over.

"Y're psychologue now?" But Remy realized there was some truth to Magneto’s words, he just didn't want to acknowledge it vocally.

"The war taught me many things," Magneto acknowledged in a saddened voice, placing his hand on Remy's brow to check on the fever.

Remy grew nervous. A touch like this one usually spelled trouble. It had to be the charm power acting up again and he resigned himself to Magneto's intentions, whatever they were.

"You're afraid of me... because of the things other men did to you?" Magneto asked, already knowing the answer and he hated seeing the fear in those red eyes.

Remy simply nodded his head. This was deja vu. He'd been here before. "Y' want Remy's body, oui?" he offered, knowing that struggling would only increase the pain, and suddenly he realized Magneto was right. He was trying to distance himself from what he was about to do. Magneto's reaction baffled him though.

Magneto smiled gently and said, "Non, je peux résister vos charmes, Remy."

"Resist?" Remy repeated, deeply touched. Calm spread through his mind, originating from Magneto and he drew in the assurance that he wouldn't be touched against his will. Then, on a lighter note he added, "Y' speak French too?"

"I grew up in Europe, Remy and yes, I know some French."

"Merci," Remy said, deeply grateful. Relieved, he closed his eyes, finally convinced he was safe here.

"Yes, sleep," Magneto whispered, pleased with the results he had achieved so far. "You'll need all your strength when you finally decide to face your past."

///

Lazily, Remy opened his eyes and wondered why he felt this comfy and warm. He was back in his room, safely tucked away underneath blankets and dim lights warmly lit his surroundings. But the thing that had woken him had been the smell of food. Curiously, he eyed the sweats draped over the chair next to the bed and quickly decided to put them on. That however, turned out to be harder than he'd thought. His fingers still ached and felt strangely numb. It took him a few minutes to slip in to the sweats and then he wrapped the blankets once again around his form. It wasn't that he was really cold, the room temperature was comfortable, but he couldn't get the chill out of his bones. The memory of lying there on the ice had been imprinted on the body itself. Drawing in a deep breath of *warm* air, he slowly made his way over in to the corridor and this time he followed his sense of smell. A moment later he had found the small kitchen.

"Are you hungry?" Magneto asked, seeing Remy hesitantly enter the room.

"Oui," he admitted and tried to peek at the food.

"Then sit down." Magneto pointed at the table and chairs. This wouldn't be easy. "We need to talk."

"What about?" Remy gingerly took a seat.

"About your return to the X-Men," Magneto stated, his voice full of resolve. He placed a plate filled with potatoes, greens and steak in front of the young man. "But first you'll eat."

Taken aback, Remy stared at the food. "Mon Dieu, y' want Remy t' eat all dat?"

"Rule number one," Magneto said and handed Remy some water. "As long as you're my guest, you'll stop talking in the third person. Compris?" he added in French, hoping to find some mutual ground.

"Will try," Remy said, giving in reluctantly.

"Trying isn't good enough," Magneto pointed out to him. "You'll just do it."

Remy chuckled briefly and had no idea why. All he knew was that it felt good to talk to Magneto. "Never t'ought I'd ever befriend y'," he quipped. "Don' y' need t' destroy de world or threaten someone?"

"You've got a good sense of humor," Magneto replied in a similar tone, grateful that the fear had receded from Remy's eyes. Apparently the young man had finally realized he was safe here.

"Ever tried Cajun food?" Remy asked as he slowly emptied his plate. Until now he hadn't realized how hungry he was.

"No." Magneto studied Remy. "I'll take you back to the mansion tomorrow."

Remy didn't know how to feel about that. "Don' wanna," he said eventually. "Can' face Storm or de oders."

"Why?" Magneto decided to pretend ignorance, realizing how hard it would be to make Remy open up. The young man wasn't used to sharing anything private with others.

Remy took a moment to consider the question. "Re..." he started and then stopped himself, "I'm afraid."

Magneto inclined his head, urging him on. They didn't have much time and there was also this charm power, as Remy called it, to discuss.

"Dey will never believe dat I didn' know 'bout de Marauders' plans." Remy gave Magneto an apologetic look. "Warren lost his wings in dose tunnels. He hates me."

"And what did *you* lose Remy? What did the Marauders and Sinister take from *you*?" Magneto asked. Talking to Remy was like having a conversation with someone who didn't speak the same language.

Remy's startled face gave away his anxiety. "Dis isn' about Re... me. Dis is about dem!"

"Wrong," Magneto sighed. "Sinister tricked *you*."

Remy lowered his eyes. "Why do y' want me to go back?"

"Long ago I chose a certain path in order to realize my dream, a world in which mutants would live without fear or hatred directed at them." Magneto caught Remy's eyes and hoped the young man understood what he was talking about. "I *chose* my way, you now face that same choice. You can continue to blame yourself for every wrong in the world or take matters into your own hands and be the best you can."

"I can' go back," Remy objected, but his tone had lost its conviction.

"Yes, you can. You care about Storm, don't you?"

Remy nodded his head. "I do."

"Then you must tell her the truth," Magneto stated and shook his head. "I'm not saying this will be easy, but..."

The idea of facing them, the prospect of stepping up to Warren and talking to him, made Remy feel nauseous. They had never liked each other, had only tolerated each other's presence and Warren would very likely go mad with rage at seeing him show up at the mansion.

"Think about it," Magneto whispered, satisfied upon seeing the wavering expression on Remy's face. "There's something else we need to discuss."

Surprised, Remy focused on the other man. Why was Magneto going through all this trouble to help him?

"Your charm power. Have you ever tried manipulating it?" Magneto asked, uncertain how to put that question.

"Non," Remy said, determined. "I just try to block it."

"While you were asleep, I researched this phenomenon." Magneto noticed the uneasy look in Remy's eyes and leaned in closer. "Telepathy is quite well researched, but there are only a few empaths..."

Remy looked up questioningly, no one had ever used that term in relation to his charm power.

"I have this theory," Magneto sighed and poured some tea. "Assuming you were born with it," he said and waited for Remy's confirmation.

"Oui."

"Good, then maybe childhood events formed, molded it in a certain way." Magneto realized this was only theory and that he could never back it up with evidence, but this was the only conclusion that made any sense. "We know you went through some traumatic events to survive on the streets and..."

Remy looked away, not wanting to hear one more word. He just wanted to leave those things in the past!

"The men who abused you..." Magneto said softly and noticed the swimming red eyes. "They were attracted to you because they reacted to that 'charm power'. I believe you subconsciously adapted your ability in order to stay alive. These men gave you money, fed you, offered you shelter, and using your ability in that manner helped you survive."

Remy didn't comment, he simply didn't care. His childhood had been filled with pain and now Magneto was dragging it in to the present.

"Maybe the process is reversible."

That remark however, made Remy pay close attention. "What are y' talkin' 'bout?"

"I think..." Magneto started and approved of the changed expression in Remy's eyes, "that you can learn to control it, even change its sexual character. This 'gift' is part of you. You're not part of it."

Confused, Remy sighed and pulled the blankets closer. His fingers curled around the hot tea mug and he asked, "Let me get dis straight. Y' t'ink my charm power is some kind of empat'y?'

"Correct," Magneto stated, pleased. Now that they had taken this first step, he had to try and convince Remy to let Charles help him explore it. "Now, I want you to try something on me."

Remy slowly shook his head. "No experiments."

Magneto ignored him and said, "I want you to recall something from your memory, a joyous occasion. Can you do that?"

"Dat's it?"

"For now."

Reluctantly, Remy gave in and remembered how proud Jean-Luc had been when he had earned his membership to the Thieves guild. His father's face had shone with pride and there had been a measure of contentment in his eyes that Remy still remembered vividly. "Got it," he told Magneto.

"Good, now try and share that joy with me."

Remy's expression turned dark. "I don' know how."

"Listen to your instincts." Magneto hoped he was right and that Remy was capable of doing this. If this charm power truly was some kind of empathy this had to work!

Remy was about to give up when Magneto's eyes told him how confident the man felt in his abilities. "I've never done dis before," Remy whispered apologetically and suddenly remembered the scarce intimate moments he had shared with the people who had truly cared for him. During those moments he had found a way to make them feel his pleasure. Maybe Magneto was right and he was some sort of empath, he knew they existed. He couldn't let Magneto down, wouldn't face another failure and raised a shaky hand to touch Magneto's, concentrating deeply, envisioning the flow of emotions between them.

A smile appeared on Magneto's face, realizing Remy was trying hard to make this work and... it did. Something warm, joyous, slipped into his mind and he experienced an alien pride. He refrained from speaking, seeing realization dawn on Remy's face.

"Y' felt it?"

"Yes, I still do," Magneto replied, pleased. Then, as suddenly as the sensation had appeared, it vanished again. "Do you still believe this is only 'charm power'?"

"Wrong name for it den..." Remy muttered, drained.

"Yes," Magneto agreed. "You're an empath."

"A very tired one," Remy confessed. His body was still recovering from the exposure to the cold, and he fumbled the blankets with his stiff fingers. Remy peeked at Magneto's eyes. "Why do dis for me?"

"You remind me of my youth." Magneto got to his feet, offering no other explanation. "I'll walk you back to your room."

Suddenly Remy noticed the relaxed mood he had been in during their conversation. He hadn't been obsessed with controlling the charm power and Magneto seemed unaffected by it. In a soft tone he put that question to Magneto.

"I didn't feel any attraction, Remy. I suspect that the more you learn about the extent of this power, the quicker that sexual undertone will disappear. I suggest you focus on other emotions instead..."

"Dat makes sense," Remy had to admit.

"And ask Charles to help you," Magneto said as they approached Remy's room. "You need the assistance of a telepath, as you don't know what this power can do."

"De professor is on Muir Islan'," Remy revealed and instantly wished he could take back those words.

"Then ask Jean," Magneto suggested, not even reacting to the news that Charles had left the mansion.

"Maybe I will." Remy lowered his body on to the bed and pulled the blankets close. "I don' understand y'," he murmured.

Magneto didn't react to Remy’s statement as he walked back to the doorway. "I'll take you back to the mansion tomorrow. Don't try to leave the premises, the alarm system will pick up on your movement."

"What do I say when dey ask how I survived?" Remy's eyes slipped shut, the warmth surrounding him lured him into relaxation.

"You won't mention my name," Magneto said, suddenly alert. "Let them wonder how you made it back."

"Will make dem suspicious," Remy added thoughtfully, but he liked the idea of being an empath, maybe he could find a way to put this charm power to good use and help people.

"Let them," Magneto decided, before stepping into the corridor.

Drained, Remy focused on being warm and safe. This encounter with Magneto had turned his life upside down. He was even considering returning to the X-Men to make it up to them for his past mistakes although there was no guarantee they would take him back. Facing Storm and Warren would be one of the hardest things he had ever done. As he fell asleep, Remy realized that Magneto wasn’t going to give him a choice tomorrow. Instead, he was going to throw him in the deep end.

///

As Magneto walked through the corridors, he tried to figure out how Remy's mind worked. It was obvious the young man had had a rough childhood and had survived the only way he could. The thing that puzzled him though was why the X-Men and especially Charles had let this go by unnoticed. It wasn't like Charles to ignore something like this!

Something Remy had said earlier returned to him. It had been the tone that Remy had used that had stuck with him. "Dey t'ink Remy is a whore." Those words had carried such agony that he had almost reached out to comfort the younger man, even without the lure of the charm power.

What had become of Charles' high standards? Xavier had always wanted the X-Men to be as close as family, so why leave Remy out? Maybe he'd ask Charles that particular question privately one day, but he had achieved his main objective, Remy doubted his decisions and would hopefully try and explore his mental powers. "And I almost forgot about those shields. If Charles can't read his mind, they must be impressive!" he muttered softly.

Concentrating on checking the alarm system, he found that Remy was still in his room, soundly asleep. Good. In that case he might try to sleep for a few hours as well. Tomorrow, he would take Remy back to the X-Men and he decided that he would wait until he was certain they'd allow Remy in. He didn't really doubt that they'd accept Remy, especially since Rogue had left the mansion. No one needed to know that he could monitor the mansion's surroundings, but he had witnessed her departure and she hadn't looked happy. The expression on Scott's face had only added more questions to his list. As leader of the X-Men Scott should have given the order to search for the missing Gambit.

But they had left a teammate out there to die. Magneto laid down on his bed and felt... Yes, what did he feel? Anger, frustration, the high and mighty X-Men had abandoned one of their own, something he had never thought possible in the past. Maybe it was because Charles wasn't there to offer guidance; maybe... he should remain close to the mansion until he had his answers.

///

Remy's dreams were filled with ice packed nightmares. The blankets had twisted tightly around his body and feeling restricted, his eyes shot open. Disoriented, he tried to remember where he was. Yes, Magneto's base in Antarctica. He shivered, realizing that once he went outside he would end up in that sea of ice again. No, he wasn't leaving this room where it was warm. Right there, he promised himself to never again set a foot on ice and to avoid snow for the rest of his life. It was just too cold! Trembling, he leaned into the pillows and tried to regulate his breathing.

The mere thought of ice had him panicking. Not a good sign! And why did Magneto have to take him back tomorrow? He needed time to gather his strength and to determine what to do with this revelation that he had some kind of empathic powers.

"Go back to sleep," Magneto said as he stepped inside. Remy's unease had reached his dreams and the young man had to be soothed before he could return to sleep.

"I t'ink I had a nightmare," Remy admitted, still under the influence of his dreams. "Dere is ice everywhere and it's so cold!"

Hearing the shiver in the quiet voice and sensing, yes *sensing* Remy's loneliness he took another step. "You're sending me your feelings."

Remy shot Magneto a confused look. "Je suis désolé," he whispered. He hadn't realized he was doing that.

"Don't worry about it," Magneto soothed and smiled reassuringly. Strange, here he was, looking after an X-Man! "Want me to sit with you?" he offered, looking at the rather comfortable armchair in the corner of the room.

Embarrassed, Remy shook his head. "Non, I can manage."

But Magneto didn't buy that statement and sat down in the chair, which he had pulled closer to the bed. It was the loneliness, which had upset Remy so much in his nightmares. "Go back to sleep," he repeated and watched Remy's eyes close.

///

"Are you ready to leave?" Magneto felt uneasy as he studied the uncharacteristically quiet young man, who was stalling for time. It was so obvious that Remy didn't want to leave that Magneto almost reconsidered his decision to take him back to the mansion today. "Don't even think about using your empathy on me," he said in as stern a tone as he could muster, avoiding the term charm power on purpose. Remy had to start making that distinction as well.

"Is dere really no way out for me?" Remy pleaded. His entire being rebelled against this decision, it was madness to return to the mansion. They probably wouldn't let him in, anyway, so why put himself through the rejection then? Maybe he could sneak away after Magneto had left.

"What will you do once we've reached the mansion?" Magneto asked, offering him a chance to speak his thoughts out loud. "Whom will you approach first?"

"Don' know," Remy admitted. "Don' wanna see any of dem."

"You must have been friends with someone before...this... happened."

"Non, dey always tried to avoid me," Remy whispered, tired, looking down at his sweats and blanket, which was still wrapped around his form. "How do y' plan on takin' me back anyway?"

Magneto walked up to him, extended his arms and created a sphere around them. The next moment their feet lost contact with the ground and the ceiling opened.

Remy shuddered, suddenly seeing a world of ice all around him. A blinding whiteness engulfed him, though the cold thankfully couldn't touch him. "How long will dis take?" he asked through chattering teeth.

"A few hours," Magneto replied and looked down at the man sitting at his feet. He'd almost closed his arms around Remy's trembling frame, urged on by concern. Yes, he would remain close, just to be certain the X-Men wouldn't slam the door closed in Remy's face.

Staring at the icy continent, Remy's eyes started to water. Why had Rogue left him behind in this cold? Had she wanted him to die? Her actions had made him doubt she had ever truly loved him. No matter what state he'd been in, she just couldn't leave him out there to die!

"Why don't you try and rest a little? There's nothing you can do until we get there," Magneto suggested.

"Y're right," Remy had to admit and closed his eyes to banish the white blanket covering the land.

///

Hours later, they arrived at the Mansion and Magneto descended at a safe distance from the house. He didn't want to be discovered while taking Remy home. Looking down at the young man at his feet, Magneto saw that Remy had fallen asleep again, exhaustion having overwhelmed him again. "Wake up," he said softly and sat on his heels.

Remy's eyes opened slowly and after searching his surroundings he realized where he was. In the distance he noticed the mansion's outline and his resolve began to weaken. "Dis is a bad idea," he told Magneto, who smiled weakly in return.

"You've got to try this," Magneto said gently and helped Remy back to his feet. The younger man swayed momentarily before regaining his balance.

"What if dey don' even let me in to de house?" Remy asked and pulled the blankets closer. It was the middle of night and the temperature had almost dropped to freezing point. He could almost *smell* the snow in the air.

Magneto pushed him in the right direction and said, "You've got to walk alone from here."

Remy sighed deeply, as far as he was concerned this was stupid. Storm and Warren would object to his presence.

"Believe in yourself," Magneto encouraged softly. "And give them the time to understand what really happened. Make them see that Sinister tricked you."

"Don' know how," Remy whispered, but took a step closer to the mansion.

"You'll find a way." Magneto watched him take another step and nodded his head. "You can always use your empathy to show them."

"Jamais!" Remy snapped suddenly.

Surprised at the vehemence of that remark, Magneto raised an eyebrow.

"Dey'll t'ink I'm manipulatin' dem and dey don' t'ink very highly of me to begin wit'." Remy's expression turned dark.

"You *will* tell Charles or Jean and get help?" Magneto wanted to know for certain.

"Peut-être," Remy replied without commitment, he didn't especially like the idea of them knowing about his mental abilities.

Magneto let the remark go by unnoticed and took to the sky again. "I wish you luck," he said as he vanished from Gambit's sight.

Slowly, Remy started the long walk towards the mansion.

///

Inside the house, Jean tossed and turned in the bed. Scott was holding her tightly in his arms, but the unease floating in to her mind caused her to wake up, something was wrong! A very disturbed mind was subconsciously reaching out to her and distressed she sat up, pushing away Scott's arms.

"Jean, darling?" Scott muttered in his sleep as his wife slid off the bed. Immediately awake, he scanned the room for a possible intruder.

"You can go back to sleep," Jean whispered absentmindedly. Once more concentrating on the sensation, she slipped into a robe and flipped back her hair. Something was compelling her to go outside.

Scott observed her expression and sat up as well. "What's wrong?"

Reluctantly she faced him and said, "I need to go outside."

"Why?" Scott pushed the blankets away and quickly slipped into his pajama bottoms. "Did you have another bad dream?" he whispered eventually, remembering the moment Rogue had told them that Gambit had died in Antarctica. His face hadn't revealed his confusion, but Jean hadn't hidden her emotions and had cried softly. He'd never understood why she liked the Cajun that much, but he accepted it nonetheless.

It was on nights like these that he still wondered whether he had made a mistake in taking Rogue's word for it, but she loved Gambit and would have saved him if there had been so much as a spark of life left inside Remy's body.

"No," Jean replied quickly. There hadn't been any bad dreams tonight, just a strange awareness dancing on the edges of her mind. But she remembered the dreams quite vividly and she still had a hard time accepting that Gambit was dead. Dead. They had lost teammates and loved ones before, but she wished she'd had a last chance to talk to Remy. She'd seen the horror in his eyes when they had looked at him, knowing he'd led the Marauders into the tunnels. Remy's eyes had been filled with pain and regret and she'd felt the accusation the others had aimed at him. Oh, the anger and hurt that had emanated from Warren still scared her even now. Warren thought Remy solely responsible for the loss of his wings.

"Jean?" Scott said softly, trying to capture his wife's attention.

Jean shook her head and opened the door. Quickly, she walked down the corridor and into the garden. Something was drawing her closer and she couldn't resist the urge to follow.

Cursing softly, Scott grabbed a sweatshirt and followed his wife. It had grown chilly during the night and Jean would catch a cold if she stayed out too long. "Jean?" he halted, looked about then saw her disappear into the garden.

Jean focused her senses and wished the professor were at the mansion. She couldn't pinpoint the source, but continued to walk anyway.

"Jean?" a soft voice suddenly whispered.

She froze in her tracks. "I know you," she whispered in return and felt like she had been blind the entire time. How could she not have known who had been calling her? "Remy?"

"Wasn' sure I'd be allowed in de house," Remy whispered and stepped out of the shadows, tightly hugging his blanket. His eyes were emotionless and he did his utmost to control his mental powers. Although his shield was still up, he knew Jean could sense some of the turmoil he was in. He hadn't consciously called her outside, she had just been the first one to wake and detect his presence.

"Is it really you?" Jean choked out and raised a hand to touch his skin. This couldn't be! Rogue had assured them that Remy was dead!

"Oui, sorry to say it's me," Remy stuttered, slightly taken aback by the relief and joy he sensed in her mind. He hadn't expected a warm welcome, but Jean was truly relieved to see him alive.

"How?" she stuttered and took a step closer to him, then she rested her hand on his and he trembled at the contact. Finally, she realized he was really standing in front of her, alive!

Remy lowered his eyes, remembering Magneto's words. "Don' know m'self." He would have to come up with something better later, but this would do for now.

"Remy!" Jean exclaimed and before Remy realized her intentions, she had caught him in a warm hug. Confused, he wavered at returning the gesture, but he couldn't help but relish her genuine relief. Then another form appeared behind her and Remy's hands tightened in to fists.

"Gambit?" Scott said, baffled. After establishing eye contact, Scott shook his head in confusion. Only then did he notice Jean was still hugging the Cajun. "You're not dead?" It sounded stupid, considering the man was standing right in front of him.

"Remy's still alive, oui."

"But Rogue told us you'd died in Antarctica!"

How could he tell them that Rogue had left him there alive? His guilt was still too overwhelming to point a finger at someone else. "I survived," he said eventually. "She made a mistake." Then he pushed himself away from Jean and shivered in the cold night.

"You're cold!" Jean said and pulled him inside the house.

Remy knew better than to protest her action and sank down on the sofa the moment Scott closed the door behind him. Some of the cold vanished, but the room still felt too chilly for his personal taste. He didn't know what to say, so he remained silent.

Scott studied the Cajun and saw the dark circles underneath the alien eyes, Gambit's body trembled fiercely, but the younger man hardly seemed to notice it. "I think you owe us an explanation," he stated, wondering how Remy had managed to survive the cold.

Remy however, assumed Scott was asking about his involvement with Sinister and cringed mentally. No matter how hard he'd try to convince them, they would never again trust him. Tricked by Sinister, Magneto had made it sound that simple, but as he sat there he knew those words weren't enough. It was Jean though who provided him with a way out.

"Scott! Can't you see he's cold?" Sitting down next to Remy, Jean smiled weakly. "Hank should have a look at you and... no arguments!" she stated firmly.

"Non," Remy objected, "No need to wake him now."

"First thing in the morning then! Remy, we'll walk you to your room." Jean noted Scott's impatient look and silenced his unspoken objections. "We can discuss this in the morning!"

Resigned, Scott nodded his head. He also wanted to talk to Rogue as quickly as possible.

///

Jean opened the door to his room and walked next to Remy as she listened to the murmurs in his mind. Had his shields weakened or was he allowing her in? Sensing the terrifying cold in his mind she pushed him down on to the bed. "I'm glad you're back."

Remy lay down and stared at the ceiling, he felt out of place here. "Y' be de only one, chere," he whispered softly. "Scott wasn' t'rilled to see me."

"We thought you were dead Remy. Scott needs some time." Jean closed the curtains and sat down, studying his eyes in the dim light. "Something about you has changed."

Remy avoided her eyes and shivered underneath the blankets. The room was too cold! "Didn' t'ink y'd let me in," he revealed in all honesty.

"Why?" she asked, mystified.

"'Cause of de Marauders and Morlocks." Remy closed his eyes and wished he were back on Magneto's base.

"It's not our place to judge your former actions." Jean slowly nodded her head. "We've all been manipulated before."

"Mais... Too many people died 'cause of me..." Remy objected. "Storm must be really mad wit' me and Warren..."

Jean's smile faded, but she patted his hand underneath the blanket. "I'll talk to them."

Remy turned on to his left side, facing away from her, cursing himself about how stupid he’d been to come back here.

///

Magneto gained speed and height after he'd watched Jean pull Remy inside. He'd check back on Gambit in a few days, just to be sure the young man was coping with the new situation. Looking back, he knew he'd done the right thing in forcing Remy to make a decision that quickly. The hardest part however was still to come. Remy had faced Jean and Scott, but the real test would be stepping up to Storm and Warren.

///

The scent... *that* particular scent... Logan quickly got to his feet and took in another sniff of air. He briefly questioned his sanity, but then realized the scent was real and it had only appeared minutes ago. After slipping in to his clothes, Logan thoughtfully marched down the corridor, trying to dissect the scent that was drawing him closer to one particular room at the end of the corridor. A room that should be empty, yet his sense of smell told him differently. Ghosts didn't possess a personal scent, did they?

Logan pushed the door ajar. A faint ray of sunlight illuminated the room and offered him enough light to identify the person lying in the bed. Prowling closer he studied the face, pale and drained and shook his head in disbelief. Gambit had died in Antarctica; at least that was what Rogue had told them. If that was true, what was the kid doing alive and curled up in a fetal position in his bed? "She lied," he whispered privately, and wasn't sure how to feel about this unexpected revelation.

Logan kept his distance; not wanting to wake Gambit. Dark circles beneath his eyes told Logan that the kid had missed out on a lot of sleep. "I'm glad ya made it back alive," he whispered and nodded his head. Although the kid had worked for Sinister, he knew Remy hadn't been a willing participant. Logan had gotten to know Remy a little, but the kid was hiding too many secrets and those secrets would, one day, get the Cajun killed.

Logan had smelled the brief moments of fear on the Cajun when he had gotten too close, too personal. Remy had told him about his life in New Orleans as a thief, but had completely avoided talking about anything prior to that.

Softly, Logan closed the door behind him, listening to the Cajun's easy breathing. Hell would break loose the moment Warren discovered Gambit was still alive. Chuckling a little, Logan hoped Gambit would peg the playboy down to size. He was well aware of the fact that Warren disliked him as well, but he had decided long ago that the winged man's opinions didn't matter much to him.

Returning to his room, Logan wondered how Ororo would react to Remy's return. They had been close friends before Remy's secret had shattered that trust. "We've all been tricked and messed with," he muttered softly and as far as he was concerned, Remy had to earn that second chance but he was willing to give the Cajun that chance.

///

"Ororo?" Jean called out softly, as she climbed the stairs to Storm's room. After taking a refreshing hot shower she had dressed and decided to seek out her friend. Scott had grumbled that he needed coffee first and thus they had gone separate ways. Breakfast would be ready in a few minutes and Storm would probably be up and watering her plants.

"Yes?" Storm replied and smiled as Jean stepped inside. Loving fingers trailed the sinews of a leaf and she looked up, wondering why Jean had come here this early.

"Something happened last night," Jean said, not wasting any time. After mentally checking on Remy, who was still asleep, she had decided Storm should be told first. Warren wasn't staying at the mansion at the moment and she would tell him upon his return.

Storm got to her feet and a sudden alertness colored her eyes. "Tell me."

Jean walked over to the plants and watched a drop of water slide down a shiny green leaf. "Remy is still alive," she said, stressing every word.

"What?" Shocked, Storm walked up to Jean. "In the name of the Goddess, are you serious?"

"He showed up yesterday, cold and worn down. He didn't die in Antarctica."

"But Rogue told us..." Storm stopped as she forced herself to reach inward and evaluate her feelings. There was joy at hearing that her friend was still alive, yet she also felt the pain his betrayal had put her through. The Morlocks had trusted her, they had been her responsibility and then she'd discovered Gambit had helped the Marauders slaughter them. It had been a shock, her dear friend... capable of such betrayal. No she reminded herself, Remy hadn't known about Sinister's plans. Did that knowledge change anything? She wasn't sure.

"Ororo?" Jean said softly and placed a hand on her friend's arm.

"I'm fine," Storm replied and composed herself. "Please excuse me for breakfast. I'm not hungry this morning."

Saddened, Jean watched Storm open the doors to her balcony and call on the winds to carry her away from the house. //Give her some time,// Jean chided herself, she felt confident that Storm would talk to Remy the moment she was ready to face him.

///

"Hank? I need you in the medlab today. I hope you didn't make any plans." Scott gulped down the coffee and devoured the bacon and eggs Jubilee had prepared.

Hank looked up questioningly. "And what did you have in mind?"

"Gambit's back and needs..." Scott never managed to end that sentence as McCoy almost hit the ceiling hearing that comment.

"What did you say?"

"Gambit's back and..."

"I thought I had misunderstood," Hank whispered and calmed down. Trust Scott to throw this bit of information at him so casually!

"No, you didn't. I couldn't believe it at first either, but he's asleep in his room right now."

Having finished his breakfast, Hank pushed the chair away from the table, still trying to accept Scott’s revelation. "He should be in the medlab. I need to examine him."

"Gambit convinced Jean that it could wait until this morning. Are you going to get him now or...?" Scott asked, a bit amused to see the broad grin on McCoy's face. He understood that reaction, having felt equally relieved to find out that Gambit was still alive. After all, Remy was an X-Man and they would deal with Gambit's past when the time was right.

"I will take care of him now and this time I will make him submit to every test I want to run on him," Hank muttered, knowing only too well about Gambit's dislike of the medlab. Once again, he wondered what caused the man's unease.

"Kid's still asleep," Logan stated as he strolled inside. "Let him sleep, looks kinda drained."

Scott raised an eyebrow. "So, how did you find out?"

Logan tapped his nose.

"Of course," Scott whispered and looked about, so who didn't know yet?

Jubilee walked back into the kitchen, carrying more toast and cursing the fact that it was her turn this week to prepare meals. It meant getting up early and doing a lot of dirty dishes, but upon noticing the odd feeling in the room she asked, "What?"

"Our fearless leader," Hank started with a smug smile on his face, "Just had the courtesy to inform us that Gambit has returned to the mansion."

"Remy's alive?" Jubilee squealed, grinning.

Logan snorted as he grabbed his plate. "Back off and give the kid some breathing space."

"Oh," Jubilee moaned, her grin fading. "Does Storm know?"

"I’ve told her," Jean replied as she entered the room and took in their expressions. Good, she sensed their relief and as far as she could tell, no one planned on giving Remy the fifth degree. She wasn't sure he could cope with that now.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a patient to look after," Hank said and quickly left.

Scott looked thoughtfully at his wife. "How did Ororo react?"

"She needs time to come to terms with this development," Jean stated, sipping her tea. "But she loves Remy, in the end she'll talk to him and forgive him."

"Sentimental crap," Logan grunted. "Kid made a mistake in trusting Sinister." Then he shot Scott a burning glance. "We've all been there, made those mistakes, even Warren." Having said his piece Logan turned and was about to walk in to the garden when he suddenly halted. "Well, I'll be damned."

"What?" Jubilee asked and ran after him growing quiet as she followed his stare. "It's snowing!" she exclaimed happily and opened the door to inhale the scent of ice. "Build me a snow man!" she commanded and gave Logan her most adoring smile." Please?"

Logan mumbled something barely audible and slammed the door shut. Jubilee followed him, as he searched the house for a quiet place to eat his breakfast. Eventually he gave in, snarling that she could have her snowball fight and told her to put on warmer clothes. Jubilee nodded her head, kissed the grumpy man on the cheek and ran to her room.

"Jubes is trouble as well," Logan mumbled as he noticed Jean's sparkling smile and realized how he had missed seeing that smile during the last few days. Slowly he admitted to himself that it had been Gambit's supposed death that had depressed her and now that the Cajun was back, that smile was back as well. Angry with himself, he also realized he felt envious of Gambit, who had put that smile back on her face, because he wished that he had been the reason for its return.

///

Hank eyed the sleeping form for long moments and didn't like what he saw, Gambit looked exhausted and there was something unsettling about that face he couldn't label. Remy should be in the medlab. Hank needed to know what the exposure to the cold had done to the Cajun.

Gently, he placed a hand on Remy's brow, wondering why they hadn't turned the Blackbird around to search for their teammate, but then again, Rogue had been so convincing! Maybe they had taken the easy way out, choosing not to deal with the troubled young man. But now Remy had returned and it was his responsibility to make sure his health wouldn't suffer from his stay in Antarctica.

"Remy?" he said softly and cocked his head as the young man moaned.

"Cold... so cold..."

Hank nodded his head at those words. It wasn't surprising that Remy was having nightmares about the cold. "Remy? Wake up."

Remy didn't want to wake up, didn't want to open his eyes, all he wanted was to lie here and breathe in warm air, feeling the warmth cradle him.

"Remy?" This time Hank spoke louder and noted the effect it had on the young man. One eye opened slowly, reluctantly.

"Henri?" Remy moaned, sleepily. He'd hoped Jean would keep his return quiet, but he should have known she'd ask McCoy to check on him.

"You will come down to the medlab with me," Hank stated in an authoritative tone. He would not allow Remy to talk himself out of this one. "Do you require help in getting to your feet?"

"Non," Remy replied, resigned. He'd heard Hank use that tone before and considering the fact that Jean had probably asked McCoy to check on him, he would find the two of them double teaming him. After struggling with the blankets he allowed Hank to disentangle them from his body and gingerly got to his feet. His eyes threatened to close again and goose flesh appeared all over his body, feeling how cold the room had gotten during the night.

"You must tell me how you survived," Hank started and then noticed Remy was about to stumble over his own feet. Resolutely, he wrapped a long arm around Gambit's waist and smothered his protest with a glare.

Remy leaned heavily on McCoy and concentrated on making his way to the medlab. He couldn't help but wonder how Hank felt about his return. The man hadn't made any remarks about his part in the massacre yet, but Remy knew it was only a matter of time before Hank would address the matter. Gathering his mental defenses, he tried hard not to reach out to McCoy in whatever way possible. As long as he didn't understand this... empathy, as Magneto had called it, he should remain careful.

"You will remain in the medlab as long as I deem it necessary," Hank pointed out to him.

"Oui," Remy whispered, too tired to argue. Why were they taking care of him? Why had Jean pulled him inside? It would have been so much easier if they had turned him away!

Hank had a fairly good idea what Remy was thinking and swallowed hard, this was such a mess! He wished Remy had confided in them, had told them about Sinister, but apparently Gambit had decided against that. In a way, the X-Men had failed him and Hank shook his head, saddened that Remy hadn't felt safe enough with them to *trust* them. That would have to change.

After what seemed like hours they finally arrived at the medlab and Hank eased Remy down on an exam table, distinctly noticing the shivers that racked his body. Was it because of the cold or... something else? Why did Gambit hate the medlab? "I'm going to run several tests on you," he explained as he attached electrodes to Remy's skin. "I'll also need a blood sample." Remy didn't object and surprised Hank observed those red eyes. "You can sleep through the tests," he offered.

Remy nodded his head once and then closed his eyes. The medlab was cold, so awfully cold and it reminded him of another place. A place he didn't want to remember. He didn't want to smell that sterile scent, the stench of blood as the man had... Stop! Remy shivered, determined not to descend in to the depths of his memories. This time it was different and he knew he could trust Hank...

Surprise made way for concern at hearing Remy's strangled sobs and again Hank wished he knew what Remy was trying to deal with. Every time Gambit was here, a distant expression appeared in the Cajun's eyes. Seemingly asleep Remy drew in deep breaths and Hank felt his patient's pulse slow down. Returning to adjusting the microscope he hummed softly, so far everything had checked out just fine and it appeared that Remy was only exhausted. Hank was rubbing his eyes, when unexpectedly someone called out his name.

"Hank! You've got to see this! Do you know it's snowing?"

"Bobby?" Hank looked up from his work and stared at Bobby, whose smile seemed to warm the entire room. "I did not know you'd returned," he said and quickly glanced at Gambit who stirred in his sleep.

"I came back last night. Rogue wanted to be alone and Warren didn't answer my calls, so I figured I better keep you company!" Bobby halted in his tracks, seeing the displeased expression in his friend's eyes. What was he missing here? "Wanna throw some snowballs? Jubilee got Logan to build her a snowman and..." he grew quiet as he followed Hank's eyes. His friend wasn't alone down here.

"Who's your patient?" Bobby asked, trying to remember if someone had been missing earlier. Softly walking over to the bed, so as not to disturb the person lying on it, he inclined his head. Auburn hair..., a man? "Gambit?" he stuttered surprised and looked to McCoy for confirmation. "But she said he was dead!"

"Apparently she... made a mistake," Hank said, repeating Remy's words. The two men stared at each other, unspoken questions hanging in the air.

Bobby licked his lips to ask why Rogue would lie to them, when Remy's eyes opened. Unexpectedly Bobby found himself staring right back in to those red on black orbs.

Bobby Drake... the Iceman, Remy shivered at his unexpected presence. Why was he here in the medlab? There was snow all over Bobby's coat and it radiated a cold that reminded him of his stay in Antarctica. Right now the Iceman was the last person he wanted to see. But after overhearing their conversation he was finally getting closer to the answers to the questions he had pondered while lying on the ice.

Obviously Rogue had told them he had died. Yes, turning around to search for a corpse made no sense. Remy briefly closed his eyes and felt himself subconsciously reach out to Hank. Non! It was too dangerous, he had to control his powers and although he craved feeling sympathy and understanding, he knew he couldn't have it and certainly not by manipulating their feelings!

"Remy, do you have any idea why Rogue thinks you're dead?" Hank asked eventually as the question remained unanswered, hanging in the air like the sword of Damocles over their heads.

Remy slowly shook his head, uncertain what to say. When she had dropped him on the ice he had been very much alive. "Non, don' know."

Bobby found it odd that the Cajun avoided their eyes as he spoke those words. The cocky Gambit he had known would have faced them head on, but this man hardly resembled the man he had fought with during training. There was a new vulnerability to Gambit that confused him. "Anything I can do to help?" Bobby offered, feeling uncomfortable as he stood next to the bed.

Hank considered the question and nodded his head. "Remy hasn't had any breakfast yet."

Bobby smiled. "I'm sure I can find something edible in the kitchen," and quickly left the medlab. As he stepped in to the corridor, he turned one last time to look at Gambit. Bobby never expected Remy to catch that glance, but the Cajun did and Bobby quickly broke the eye contact. The red on black eyes were unsettling for more than one reason. He couldn't read their expression and there was something else he refused to think about.

Breakfast. Hank had told him to get something to eat and as he rummaged in the kitchen cupboards he picked up toast, marmalade, cereals, milk and orange juice. Looking at the tray, he wondered whether he missed something and at the last moment he added some hot tea. While carefully balancing the tray he made his way back. Bobby halted however, as Remy's voice reached him at the doorway. The Cajun was talking to Hank and his voice sounded cracked.

"I wan' to rest in my own room," Gambit whispered in a shaky voice.

"I can't let you leave just yet," Hank objected. "I still need to run more tests."

"Please?" Remy whispered.

Bobby had never heard Remy plead before and continued to listen to the conversation.

"Then give me a reason why you don't want to be in the medlab," Hank said in a determined tone.

From where he was standing, Bobby could see part of Gambit's face and he was shocked at the frightened expression on the Cajun’s face. After putting the tray on the floor, he shifted his position until he could see Remy’s entire face. A nervous twitch had appeared close to Remy's right eye and showed how apprehensive he really felt. Suddenly Bobby remembered Warren's words, screamed at him in anger, telling him that the Cajun was scum and deserved to die in Antarctica. The sting to those words had taken him aback right then as he had fully come to understood Warren's hate.

It was a hate that he didn't share. //No,// Bobby thought,//no one deserves to die alone, no matter what they've done and certainly not a fellow X-Man!// Yes, he understood Warren's rage to a certain degree. After all, Angel had lost his wings. But Bobby just couldn't see how Gambit was solely responsible for that loss. Warren hadn't liked that statement and infuriated he had left the room, leaving behind a very saddened Bobby. It was only then that he'd realized he no longer knew the man Warren had become. Remy's voice lured him back from his musings into listening again.

"Don' wanna be here," Remy whispered and pulled the blankets closer around him.

Bobby once more concentrated on the conversation and briefly wondered why he was eavesdropping like this. Remy and he hardly knew each other so why...?

"Why?" Hank repeated again, but this time in a softer tone.

Remy sighed. He really didn't want to tell this to anyone, even Jean-Luc didn't know, but he wanted out of here and if telling Hank was the way to achieve that... "When I was lil' a man took me to a place like dis and..." Suddenly the words disappeared and he couldn't look Hank in the eyes.

McCoy was doing his utmost to understand Remy's hint, but the conclusion he reached was... almost impossible to believe. Was Gambit telling him that he had been hurt in a medlab when he had been a child?

"I hate de smell in here, sterile and... dere was blood when he cut open my skin. Didn' know what he wanted to do to me for de money... I needed food." Remy blinked away the tears that swam in his eyes. He wasn't going to show his vulnerability this openly.

Hank drew in a deep breath, uncertain what to say. Of all possible explanations this was the most unexpected one and on impulse he placed his right hand on Remy's, as if to offer him moral support.

But Remy tried to avoid the skin contact, knowing it would trigger the charm power. "Non!" he exclaimed, but it was too late. Warm fingers squeezed his and all the pain, he had been keeping back, all the shame he had carried with him for so long, found a way out.

Bobby staggered into the medlab, recognizing the expression in Hank's eyes. Both of them were in mental pain, as guilt flowed towards them in waves. As he approached the Cajun, he sensed Gambit's apology flickering underneath the pain and shame. "We're feeling your pain?" he whispered, shifting his glance from Hank to Remy. He'd heard about empathy but had never felt anything like this.

Hank didn't surrender to the emotions. Instead, he gathered Remy in his arms and tried hard to calm his patient down. "You are safe now. You know that, Remy," praying that the young man would withdraw these unsettling emotions. How was it possible that he'd never before realized that Gambit possessed empathic abilities?

Remy sucked in his breath, seeing Bobby and Hank stare at him with alien emotions in their eyes. "Merde!" he exclaimed and started to pull back the pain he'd unwillingly released. Ever since Magneto had fed him this idea of empathy he had been tempted to send out his emotions and see if others really received them. Shaking in Hank's embrace, he bit his lip as the pain settled back into his mind. Bobby's eyes were big and... watering? Non, that was impossible! In Hank's eyes he saw a similar expression.

"What was that?" Bobby whispered as he curled his fingers around the back of a chair for support.

"Charm power," Remy replied, falling back in to old habits and forgetting about the things Magneto had told him.

"Didn't feel like you were trying to charm us," Hank pointed out to him and eased Remy's trembling body back down on to the bed. "It felt like you were sharing your pain with us. Are you an empath?"

"Je ne sais pas " Remy muttered, it had never been his intention to show them his pain. Why did Hank have to bring up this empathy he didn't really believe in? First Magneto and now Hank as well.

"I never knew you had this ability," Hank said, fatigue heavy in his voice. This was too much information at once and Remy's pain was still tangible in the room. //An empath,// Hank thought amazed.

Bobby forced himself to walk back to the entrance and pick up the tray of food. He doubted Gambit could eat right now, but he had to do something to distract himself.

"Never told anyone," Remy admitted and struggled to sit up. "Can I rest in my room now?"

Hank wavered, finally understanding why Gambit hated being here. "I will run one more test on you and then Bobby here will walk you to your room."

Bobby looked up and shot McCoy a questioning look. Had he just been downgraded to a baby-sitter?

Remy sensed Drake's unease and said, "I can walk back alone."

Bobby looked up and met those alien eyes. "Can you also pick up feelings or just send them out?"

Remy pulled up the blanket and shivered underneath it. "Both."

//Great!// Bobby thought irritated. He had practically screamed at the Cajun that he didn't want to keep an eye on him! "Hope you like tea," Bobby said, trying to make it up to Gambit and placed the tray on the side of the bed.

"Not hungry," Remy whispered and almost felt queasy at the sight of the food.

"You will eat something or stay here," Hank commanded before returning to his study of the test results. Remy probably wanted some time alone.

"Hope you don't mind me already filling the bowl with cereal. The box said there was a Spiderman toy inside and I ... kinda found it as I held the package upside down," Bobby joked and added some milk. Carefully watching Remy's expression he noticed the weak smile on his face, but as Gambit's fingers tried to get a grip on the spoon, Bobby paled. Remy's hand trembled violently and the fingers were stiff. Frostbite, Bobby realized with a start.

Remy dropped the spoon onto the tray. "What are y' lookin' at?" he said and raised his eyes to meet Bobby's.

Bobby desperately tried to think of a joke, something funny that would take the edge off the remark, but couldn't come up with something. "Want some tea? It's still hot..." he offered awkwardly. After handing Remy the cup he stared at the tray, those red eyes seemed to pierce his soul and then he remembered with a start that the other man could read his emotions if he wanted to.

Weary and drained Remy sipped the tea, which was the only thing he'd truly relished this far and only because it was so hot! "I ain' readin' y'r feelings, Bobby," he stammered, afraid they'd react like this once they knew the truth.

"Why did you keep it a secret?" Hank asked after he'd finished his tests. Slowly and almost tenderly, he started to remove the electrodes.

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "Don' know. Mon père told me people might react funny. Was safer dis way."

Bobby winced as he remembered the jokes Warren used to crack about Remy. Had Gambit picked up on the animosity behind his friend's remarks? Remy had never returned the vehement remarks. Bobby felt sorry for listening to those comments. Only Storm and Jean had occasionally defended the Cajun.

Remy didn't know what to make of Bobby's confused feelings, which were tumbling his way, oddly enough directed straight at him. What was the man feeling sorry for? "Bobby?" he said hesitantly.

Hearing his name pulled Bobby from his musings and he swallowed hard. "Are you ready to go to your room then?"

//Dat wasn' what you wanted to say,// Remy thought, but decided not to point that out to Bobby. "Oui," he said as Hank handed him his sweatshirt.

"I will check on you every hour," Hank informed him. "And you will stay in bed, rest and eat everything I bring you, is that understood?"

"Oui," Remy sighed as he swung his feet on to the floor. Finally he was getting out of the medlab, but he regretted telling them about his past. He staggered on his feet as he tried to walk over to the doorway, being exposed to the ice for so long had taken its toll on his body.

"Got you," Bobby remarked as he hesitantly wrapped an arm around the Cajun's waist, telling himself that Remy needed the support and that there was no other reason why he wanted to touch that too thin body.

Remy sighed heavily as Bobby's confused emotions continued to batter against his shields. Had he been up to his usual tricks he would have tried coaxing Drake into talking to him, but all he wanted right now was to lie down and get back to sleep. As he took his first step up the stairs he tensed involuntarily, sensing Logan's presence. Peeking at the man, he steeled himself for the look of rejection and disgust that would surely show in Logan's eyes. Remy still wondered why Hank and Bobby cared about him.

Logan stood on the landing and moved aside as the two men approached. It was impossible to ignore the sudden scent of fear on the kid and Logan raised his eyes to meet Gambit's. "Ya look like hell," he stated and studied Remy's red eyes.

Insecure, Remy nodded his head and subconsciously reached out to Bobby to find the strength he lacked.

Bobby startled, sensing the sudden fright and weakness take form in his mind and looked at Gambit, whose trembling had worsened. How had Remy managed to keep this ability a secret and why couldn't he control it now? About to ask Logan to let them pass, Bobby tightened his grip on the Cajun.

"Get some sleep, Gumbo," Logan grunted and continued down the staircase to return to Jubilee and their snowman. He still couldn't believe she had convinced him to build one.

Bobby opened the door and helped Remy lie down. "Want me to raise the room temperature?"

"Oui," Remy whispered, falling asleep as his body melted in to the comfort of the bed.

Bobby returned to the bed and found Remy already asleep, so he pulled the blankets over the shivering body. Dazed, he stood there for long moments and then pulled up a chair to sit down. Remy's return upset him for several reasons. Rogue had told him and Warren that Remy had wanted to die and that she hadn't tried to talk him out of it. She had found him dead on the ice and had simply left the body there.

Now, he doubted her words. Rogue was the last one to have seen Remy alive and he wondered what had happened between them. It wasn't a secret that Gambit was in love with her and that she'd tried to return those feelings. But then she had brought in Joseph and had become more distant. A relationship had seemed out of the question after Joseph's arrival and Bobby shook his head as it reeled with too many questions.

"Rhume. Il est trop froid ici," Remy whispered unexpectedly and started to pull the blankets closer.

Bobby only recognized one word, froid. Cold. "Are you cold?" he asked softly, not expecting an answer. //Of course he's cold,// Bobby berated himself. Maybe he could get more blankets from Hank. As he got to his feet, Remy stirred in the bed as if sensing he was about to leave the room.

"S'il vous plaît, le séjour," Remy whispered, a trembling hand emerging from beneath the blanket.

"I really need to learn French!" Bobby muttered. Although he didn't understand the language, the gesture spoke louder than words. Gambit wanted him to stay. "I'll be back shortly, but I need to get more blankets," he whispered reassuringly. He grasped the cold hand and then released it as if struck by lightning. What the hell was he doing? Touching Remy like this, offering him comfort and... why did he want to touch and comfort the man so badly? He'd never felt attracted to Gambit before... He'd only just admitted to himself that he was probably gay! "Are you using that charm power of yours on me?" That might explain the sudden attraction.

Remy didn't answer, lost in sleep. His hand however, squirmed on top of the blankets in search of Bobby's warmth.

Confused, Bobby didn't know what to do, until a moan reached his ears.

"Rogue?"

The name was spoken with such pain that Bobby leaned in closer, forgetting about getting more blankets.

"Why leave me? Why didn' y' help me?"

Shocked, Bobby again grasped Remy's hand in his, squeezing it tightly. The Cajun released a strangled sigh and seemed to slip deeper in to a more comfortable sleep and the mumbling ceased. "Oh my God, did he really say what I think he said?" Bobby asked himself. "Did she leave you there to die?" Feeling strongly protective of Remy, he sat back down and stared at the pale face, half hidden underneath blankets. Remy was tightly holding on to his hand and Bobby decided to stay until Remy felt safe enough to let go of his hand. He would get those blankets later.

///

Storm stood silently in the doorway, watching Bobby place even more blankets over Remy's shivering form. She'd spent the day in the open, enjoying the snow, riding the wind to clear her head and finally she'd made a decision. "How is Remy doing?" she asked Bobby, who whirled around to face her.

"Hank says that he's cold and exhausted," Bobby replied uncomfortably. He'd been here for 2 hours now and during that time Remy had had several nightmares. "Do you want to talk to him?"

"Yes." Determined, she stepped inside. She cocked her head to get a better view of Remy's expression, but his hair hid most of his face.

"Go easy on him?" Bobby's head jerked back, wondering where that remark had come from. Maybe it was because he'd listened too long to Remy's feverish ramblings. Hank however, had reassured him that Gambit was fine when he'd checked on the young man earlier. Bobby remembered Hank's surprise at finding him still seated next to Remy's bed. He'd remained quiet though, still too caught up in his own troubled emotions concerning Remy.

Pleasantly surprised, Storm smiled reassuringly. She couldn't recall ever seeing Bobby this... protective of someone and she liked the expression in his eyes. They had talked many times about things that had bothered him and when he'd mentioned that he didn't feel comfortable dating girls, she had seen the truth in his eyes. But Bobby had only slowly allowed that truth in as well, and it was only because of Hank that the young man was starting to accept this facet of his personality. "I wish to talk to him, Bobby, not to hurt him."

"Awright," Bobby muttered. "Need to make some calls anyway." Bobby was reluctant to leave the room, but forced himself into action. It somehow felt wrong to leave Remy alone, but Storm would look after him. Finally, he closed the door behind him and made his way to his own room.

Storm sat down in the chair, which Bobby had used to watch over Remy and as she studied the young man in the bed, she noticed the lines of suffering marking his brow. He looked older, more fragile and strangely vulnerable. She didn't want to wake him up, but they had to talk. "Remy?" she said softly and his eyelids started to flutter. "Remy!" she repeated, a little louder, and his eyes flashed open.

Was it really Storm sitting at his bedside or was he still asleep and having another dream? He couldn't dismiss that last option as he was having trouble separating reality from his dreams these days.

"We need to talk," Storm said and leaned back into the comfort of the chair.

"I know it was my fault," Remy said after carefully constructing his answer. "De Morlocks are dead 'cause I helped Sinister."

"Why did you help him?" Storm focused on those swimming red eyes.

"He helped me control my powers. Dey were goin' berserk on me and he promised to help me get dem back under control. I didn' want anyone to get hurt."

"Did you know that he planned to kill the Morlocks?"

"Non, I didn'. I t'ought Sinister wanted to catch dem, not kill dem!" Remy didn't ask for her sympathy or forgiveness, she wanted an explanation nothing more. Another chill crept in to his heart, losing Storm was a terrible loss. She was one of the few people he had come to trust and respect and he'd betrayed that trust.

Distressed, Storm nodded her head. "I need time to work through this."

"Je comprends cela," Remy whispered and struggled to restrain the hurt he felt inside, which was about to lash out at her.

Storm rose from the chair and briefly leaned in closer. "But I'm glad you're alive, Remy."

He couldn't tell her how much hearing those words meant to him. "Merci, chere," he whispered. He had craved seeing that faint smile in her eyes and hopefully one day she would be able to forgive him. "If y' don' want me to stay, I understand," he offered.

"No, you're welcome here." Storm pulled back and walked towards the doorway. "We will talk more later."

"Oui," Remy replied and pulled his legs up underneath the blankets, he still felt cold.

///

"Bobby? Are you going to Gambit's room?" Jean couldn't repress a grin as she noticed him running up the stairs.

"Yes?" he replied, a little embarrassed and then showed her the bottle of orange juice he was taking upstairs. "Hank said Gambit needs to drink a lot, so..."

Jean chuckled softly at the weak blush which crept over Bobby's face. When would people learn they couldn't hide things from a telepath? But in this case it was Bobby hiding things from himself and that saddened her a little. "I was wondering..., most of us need to attend that charity dinner this evening, and as Hank is the guest of honor, we can't ask him to stay here and look after Remy."

Bobby tried to stop the blush from spreading further over his face. Was she really asking *him* to stay and look after Remy?

Momentarily confused, Jean wondered if she had somehow misinterpreted Bobby's thoughts. "I was hoping you would keep an eye on him, but I can stay home and..."

"No, that won't be necessary," Bobby replied, too quickly. "You go and enjoy yourself."

"Are you sure?" Jean inquired, sure now that she had been right about him all along.

"Yes, I'm sure." Bobby smiled and looked at Remy's door. "I should be going now..."

"Of course," Jean murmured amused and then winked at him. "Have a good time yourself!" and with that teasing admonition she left him standing there.

"What did she say?" Bobby whispered to no one in particular. He'd completely forgotten about that dinner, as he’d been too busy watching Remy sleep. //Watching him sleep, oh my. Is that why I'm now hurrying back to his room? I must be mad!// Bobby didn't bother to knock, he simply walked inside, fully expecting to find Gambit asleep in bed.

Remy's eyes darted over to the door as it opened, had Storm forgotten to tell him something? Had she changed her mind? Did she want him out of the house after all? He hoped not, for that meant finding another shelter and right now, he didn't know where to go. Relieved when he saw it was Bobby, he watched him enter his room, a shy expression in the blue eyes. Then he recalled that Bobby had also walked him back to his room and felt thankful for his concern. Mixed emotions flickered in Bobby's mind and Remy tried hard not to read them, but his shields weren’t as strong as they used to be. It had to be due to exhaustion. Suddenly realizing he was still lying in bed, he flung back the blankets and tried to sit up.

"Hank told you to rest," Bobby said and filled a glass with juice, before handing it to Remy. "And he wants you to drink a lot."

Remy stared at the glass and slowly raised a hand. Seeing the tremors that ran through his fingers, he bit down on his fatigue and sipped from the juice. "Merci." Lacking the warmth of the blankets he shuddered as icy shivers ran down his spine. After setting the glass aside, he pushed himself to his feet and carefully made his way over to the window. The sun was about to set and he shook violently on seeing the snow covered earth. Abruptly he felt like he was back in Antarctica and the ice was going to kill him after all.

Bobby noticed the shivers and picked up a blanket from the bed. Still wondering what was making him act in this way, he gently wrapped the fabric around Remy's shoulders, who flinched at the touch. Immediately, he distanced himself from Remy, but wished he knew what had triggered that reaction. Then he remembered Remy's stuttered admission in the medlab and understood. "Are you hungry?" he asked eventually in an effort to break the silence.

"It's snowin'," Remy stammered in a pain filled voice.

"Yes, and Jubilee and Logan built a snowman," Bobby replied, pointing at a figure in the half dark. "It's wearing ruby glasses?" he chuckled, recognizing Scott's visor.

"Dey 'burrowed' them from Cycke," Remy said softly, calming a little. Yet the sight of all that snow cut straight in to his soul.

"Are you hungry?" Bobby repeated the question, as Remy didn't seem to have registered it the first time.

"Non." Remy shook his head. He was still full from breakfast. Snowflakes descended from the heavens and he moved away from the window. Maybe if he didn't look at it, the snow would go away.

"Gambit?" Bobby whispered, looking directly into red eyes. "Remy, do you remember telling us about your charm power? You being an empath?" He wondered where the hell he was getting the courage to ask Remy these questions.

"Oui." Remy backed a step away from Bobby and gasped seeing that particular expression in his blue eyes. Mon Dieu, had he let it slip again?

"Are you using it on me now?" Bobby stuttered, feeling embarrassed.

Was he using it on Bobby? Confused, Remy focused inward and tried to assess if the charm power had slipped from his grasp or not. "Non," he said eventually. "I'm blockin' it, why?"

Why indeed! Bobby quickly moved to the other side of the room and pretended sudden interest in the orange juice. Damn! If it wasn't Remy's charm power, then why did he feel attracted to Gambit like this? "I need to talk to Hank before he leaves," he said, excusing himself. He was almost out of the door when Remy's soft voice caught up with him.

"Je suis désolé de tout."

Sighing, he turned back into the room. Remy's eyes were distant and something simmered underneath the surface. "I don't know that much French," he admitted and steeled himself for Remy's reply. "What did you say?"

"Dat I'm sorry 'bout everyt'in'," Remy whispered and looked away. Somehow he had managed to hurt Bobby, but he couldn't figure out what he'd done wrong! Why did it have to be this hard? Why had he returned to the mansion?

"Oh," Bobby stuttered and in that moment he realized the truth; he felt attracted to Remy and was falling in love with him. //This can't be happening! I can't fall in love with a teammate and certainly not with Gambit, who can have any lover he wants! And what will Warren say should he ever find out...// But did he care about Warren's opinions? Angel had shown him a side of his personality he distinctly disliked and Remy... "The snow frightens you," Bobby said in a clear tone, surprising himself. Had he subconsciously made a decision, which hadn't reached his brain yet?

Remy flinched at that remark and Bobby nodded his head. "Logan once told me you've got to face your fear or it won't go away." Looking out of the window Bobby watched the others leave. Jean even looked up at the window and he felt her soft mental touch. //Remy's fine,// he told her as they got into the car and drove off. "Get dressed," he told Remy, who stared at him in puzzlement.

"Bobby?"

"Yes?"

"I am dressed."

Bobby smiled and retrieved socks, boots and a parka. "Do you need help?" he said as he pointed at the items. God, yes he had made his decision, hadn't he? He wanted to help Remy to get over his fear of snow and ice and... didn't even know whether the man liked him in 'that' way.

Remy stared at the clothes and refused to move at all. Bobby couldn't be serious! Non! He refused to go outside where the snow and ice waited for him. //Non, never 'gain.//

Surprised, Bobby felt fear slip into his mind, a fear that wasn't his own. Relieved, he realized that if he could detect Remy's fear he would also detect any use of the charm power. //But why am I feeling his fear?// The only explanation he could come up with was that Remy couldn't completely control his ability. "I'll be back in five," he told Remy and then closed the door behind him to compose himself. What the hell was he doing?

Remy sat down on the bed and mechanically began putting on the socks and boots. Something in Bobby's tone compelled him to obey. Maybe it was because he knew that Bobby was right. He had to face his fear or he would be a prisoner for the rest of his life. However, he couldn't bring himself to put on the parka.

"Let's go," Bobby said, as he stepped inside and quickly draped the parka over Remy's shoulders. "You don't have to do this alone."

"Merci, cher," Remy replied absentmindedly, still uncertain if he could do this.

"Remy?"

"Oui?"

"About that charm power..."

"Not usin' it on y'," Remy objected weakly, tired that he had to keep repeating himself. Why was Bobby so intent on discussing it?

They walked slowly towards the garden. "I know that," Bobby whispered softly.

Cold swept inside and Remy hissed feeling the chill invade his entire being. "Can' do dis."

"Yes, you can," Bobby encouraged and folded an arm around Remy's waist, pulling him outside. They stood there in complete silence. Shivers racked Remy's body.

"Don' wanna be here," Remy said and started back for the living room but Bobby stopped him.

"It's only snow. We're not in Antarctica."

"What do y' know!" Remy growled and broke free from Bobby, but couldn't bring himself to leave the man in the cold. Someone had left him alone in the cold and... "Are y' comin' inside?"

"No, I like it here," Bobby said and prayed Remy would overcome his fear. "Actually, I think I'm going to sit on this bench for a moment."

Remy shivered as Bobby sat down and he almost bolted back into the house when Drake picked up some snow to let it slide through his fingers.

"How did you survive?" Bobby asked; afraid that Remy was drowning in his memories.

"Don' know." Remy replied and slipped in to the parka and zipped it up. Hugging himself he took one small step in Bobby's direction. "Ice doesn't scare de Iceman," he said awkwardly.

"No, I love it," Bobby admitted and got back to his feet. "What do you think of Logan's snowman?"

Remy forced himself to look at it. "Not bad. I like de visor."

"Yeah, I doubt Scott has missed the spare one yet." Bobby sensed the strain Remy was under and decided to give in for now. "I'd like some hot chocolate, wanna join me?"

But Remy was lost in memories. "When de sun went down, de cold..." A tear escaped his eyes as he remembered being frozen, his body *frozen*. "Cold."

Before Bobby knew what he was doing, he was back at Remy's side. His arm snaked around Gambit's waist and he pulled the shivering body close to his. "You survived," he murmured and stared at those lips, hoping the Cajun wasn't reading his emotions, not that it would be a bad thing. //Then he could tell me to back off. It's not like he could be interested in someone like *me*.//

"Bobby?" Remy trembled at the touch and the thought that accompanied it. Did Bobby really care about him, a traitor? Maybe it was his charm power influencing the young man without him realizing it. "Merde!" he exclaimed and shoved Bobby away. How was it possible that he hadn't picked up on his manipulation! Surely Bobby was only acting like this because the charm power was confusing him.

Bobby didn't understand the sudden panic on Remy's face and attributed it to being outside. "C'mon, I want that hot chocolate."

Remy stumbled inside and resigned, he watched Bobby disappear in to the kitchen. What was he doing wrong? As far as he could tell he was still tightly controlling the charm power!

"Get out of the parka and in front of the fire place! You must be cold, Hank will lecture me for hours if he finds out I went against his orders and actually allowed you out of bed."

In spite of everything, Remy chuckled, Bobby sounded so serious and looking back out the door he fully realized what he had just done. He'd stepped outside into the snow and only because Bobby had asked him to do it. //Bobby doesn' know what my charm power is doin' to him. If only I could control it. Don' understand. I'm not usin' it!//

"Hey, where are you?" Bobby called out, not finding Remy in front of the fireplace. After setting two mugs down on the coffee table, he walked up to Remy in the hallway. "It's much warmer in the living room."

Remy nodded and managed to get out of the parka. But as Bobby's fingers touched his hands to help him, he started to feel light-headed. //Get a grip on y'rself, LeBeau! He's only helpin' y'!//

Noticing the almost shy expression on Remy's face, Bobby felt relieved. Maybe he wasn't the only one who was nervous here. "C'mon," he said and returned to the fireplace, counting on Remy to follow him.

Remy shed his boots and followed, sitting down on the rug close to the fire, extending his hands as he tried to get the blood flowing again in his fingers.

"Here," Bobby said, handing Remy a hot mug. "That might help."

"Merci, cher," Remy whispered and closed both hands around the mug, then raised it and rested his brow against it.

Bobby hesitated briefly, before snatching the quilt from the couch and wrapping it around them as he sat down.

Remy looked up questioningly. "Why are y' doin' dis?" He couldn't help moving closer to the warm body.

Bobby sipped from the hot liquid and gazed into the fire, very much aware of the cold body next to him. "Warren will never talk to me again!" he blurted out.

Remy moved away from him at the mention of that name. Mon Dieu! He'd forgotten that Bobby and Warren were good friends. His head slumped forward and the mug almost slipped from his hands. He'd almost believed that Bobby and he could be friends. "What game are y' playin'?"

"Game?" Bobby repeated and noticed that Remy was still moving further away, taking the quilt along with him.

"Remy ain' stupid!" he spat and quickly got to his feet, staggering beneath the heavy fabric of the quilt. He placed the mug aside and glared down. "Did y' have y'r fun at Remy's expense? Y' almost made Remy forget he's a traitor! Y' almost seemed to care 'bout Remy!" Then he threw off the quilt and ran up the staircase, whilst in the back of his head he heard Magneto chiding him for lapsing back in to talking about himself in the third person.

"What?" Startled, Bobby swallowed down the lump, which had formed in his throat. Why the hell had he brought up Warren? He should have known how Remy would react. Damage control was all he could think about as he ran after Remy.

Slamming the door shut behind him, Remy stared at his reflection in the mirror. Aangry red eyes returned that stare and disgusted by his betrayal he bowed his head in defeat. He'd been fooling himself. He didn't deserve any love and certainly not Bobby's.

///

Bobby didn't know what to do when he found that Remy's door was locked. "Gambit? I'm sorry I upset you," he said and hoped Remy was listening. //Don't bring up Warren, don't bring up Warren, don't bring up Warren, don't bring up Warren,// he repeated, trying to find a way to make Remy open the door.

"Go 'way."

Remy's voice sounded distressed and Bobby's face briefly contorted in sympathy. "Remy, give me a chance to explain things to you!" He hated having hurt Remy's feelings, even unintentionally. If he'd had any doubts about his feelings for Gambit he knew the answer now. Bobby swallowed nervously. Butterflies danced in his stomach and the idea of Remy being inside that room all alone and hurting, almost made him feel physically ill. "Remy, please, I want to talk things out," he pleaded, immensely thankful the others weren't home.

A click signaled that the door had been unlocked, but Bobby was still hesitant to just walk in there. "May I come inside?"

"Oui," a long sigh, cloaked in resignation, drifted past the door.

Bobby gathered his courage and opened the door. Remy stood near the window, looking out over the white landscape and visibly shivering at the sight.

"What do y' want?" Remy asked, without turning around.

Bobby immediately noticed the hands, which had turned in to fists. It was obvious that Remy wasn't going to elaborate on his reasons for storming out of the living room so it was up to him to start this conversation. //What did I get myself in to? Why can't I be attracted to a nice girl? Why does it have to be Remy and what can I possibly say to convince him that I'm not playing games?//

Remy waited with trepidation for Bobby to address him. He'd almost believed in this sweet illusion, had almost believed someone really cared about him 'in that way'. But it had only been his charm power and he still wasn't sure why he hadn't detected its slip from his grasp.

"You accused me of playing games," Bobby said in a wary tone. "What games?"

"Makin' me feel at home here," Remy said, fatigued. "I knew it was a mistake to come back."

"But I want you to feel at home here," Bobby said, confused. "After all, this *is* your home!"

"Non, it ain', lost dat privilege when I trusted Sinister." Even now, speaking that name caused him pain.

"Warren told me his version of what happened in the tunnels," Bobby said eventually, giving up on avoiding the real issue. "Now, I want to hear yours."

"Why?" Remy laughed bitterly. "Ange and y' are such good friends... I'd be wastin' my time."

"Remy," Bobby sighed and moved closer to put a blanket over Gambit's shoulders, before leading him to the bed and sitting Remy down. "How did you meet up with Sinister?"

"Needed someone to show me how to control my powers. I was losin' control and he knows a lot of genetic mutation. He helped me."

"And in return?" Bobby pushed on relentlessly.

"I recruited de Marauders. Didn' know why he needed dem. I didn' ask." Remy rubbed his eyes. Why did he have to keep repeating all this? First Magneto, then Storm and now Bobby.

"And Storm knows this?" Bobby smiled reassuringly. He hadn't believed Warren when the man had accused Gambit of participating in the killing. The antipathy between the two men had always been there and this incident had fed it, fuelled the fire to new heights.

"Stormy knows." Remy was tired and wished he could curl up underneath those blankets and close his eyes. Why was Bobby still here? Looking in to blue eyes he sensed no loathing, sympathy yes, even a little bit of understanding, which surprised him. But if he wanted to know for sure how Bobby felt he would have to probe deeper and he wouldn't do that without permission. "Why are y' doin' dis?"

Bobby nodded his head. "I like you," he said hesitantly. //Geeze, this is hard! I never had problems telling girls I like them and now I'm blushing at this admission.//

"Bobby?" Remy whispered and hoped it wasn't somehow the charm power influencing the young man.

"I guess I like you a lot," Bobby confessed in a choked tone and he sucked in his breath as Remy moved a little closer towards him. Locking eyes with Remy, he noticed the disbelief in them. "Why are you surprised? I thought you could read my emotions?" and shrugged his shoulders. //What the hell am I saying? Where should I put my hands? Does my voice shake? What if he laughs at me and tells me he doesn't like guys? After all he loves Rogue and...//

"It's only de charm power, cher." Remy's eyes grew sad. "Once y' leave de room it's over."

Bobby shook his head. "I thought you weren't using that charm of yours on me?" He remembered the impact that feeling Remy's fear had had on him. Wouldn't he have felt the charm power as well? "Or did you lie to me?"

"Non, cher, didn' lie. I ain' usin' it, but maybe it found a way out wit'out me knowin' 'bout it." His heart pounded, hearing Bobby's confession. To be loved, to be cared for... he didn't deserve it.

"Did it ever occur to you that I could fall in love with you without the help of that charm power of yours?" Bobby asked and trembled at the same time. //Oh! I told him I'm in love with him and he didn't even bat an eyelash at hearing that! Not to mention that he didn't tell me he felt the same way. Maybe I should go back to my room before this becomes utterly embarrassing!//

Bobby's comment hit Remy unprepared. Bobby was falling in love with him, with a traitor? "Y' deserve a lot better dan me," Remy said and swallowed hard. His mouth had gone dry and the temperature in the room seemed to be dropping.

Speechless, Bobby let the remark penetrate his mind. "Better?" He smiled weakly and sought out Remy's hand underneath the blanket. "It's *you* who deserves better!"

Remy wondered about the suddenly mischievous look on Bobby's face. "Non, y' do."

"No, *you* do!

"Non, y' do!"

Bobby smiled warmly. "What about... we deserve each other?"

Hesitantly, Remy returned that smile. "Are y' sure, cher?" This was sudden and unexpected, but his heart was already telling him they might work out if he gave it a chance. "What 'bout Ange?"

"You know something?" Bobby softly caressed the knuckles of Remy's hand. "We've grown apart. The man I talked to a few days ago was a stranger, obsessed with hate and rage and I didn't like what he was saying."

Remy felt indecisive. Bobby's feelings were telling him the young man was sincere, but he hesitated to give in to temptation. "I ain' de right lover for y'," he pointed out to Bobby, who flushed at the mention of the word lover. "Actually, I've never seen y' wit' a man 'fore," Remy said, questioningly.

"Well, that," Bobby started uncomfortably. "My dad is kinda prejudiced about gays so I never told him..."

Remy smiled knowingly. "And y' decided to hide in de closet instead?"

"Something like that," Bobby admitted, "But Hank knows and Storm and Jean suspect the truth, I guess."

"And what's dat trut'?" Remy asked, awkwardly.

"That I've fallen for the charms of a Cajun thief!" Bobby teased and raised a finger to gingerly touch Remy's lips. "I've never kissed a man before".

"I've never 'fore kissed an Iceman," Remy returned and shivered. "Don' turn in to ice on me!"

"I promise." Bobby cocked his head, loving the shy smile on Remy's face. "Well, are you going to kiss me or not?"

"Want me to?" Remy wasn't sure he should give in, but... he craved feeling that warm body against his, nipping at those earlobes and tracing the inside of Bobby's mouth with his lips. But he realized he had to take this slow or he might scare Bobby away.

"Yesss," Bobby purred and watched in fascination as those lips closed in on him and finally brushed his.

"Y' like, cher?" Remy mumbled against opening lips.

"A lot."

Remy deepened the kiss a little, watching Bobby's reaction closely. As the blue orbs widened in surprise, he pulled back. Remy's own eyes were dropping shut now that they had done away with their stupid misunderstanding. "I wanna sleep in y'r arms," Remy whispered sensually and chuckled, when Bobby's blushed. "I said *sleep*."

"Awright." Reassured, Bobby wondered what he should do next. It felt like he'd forgotten to say something but...

Remy lay down and looked up expectantly. "Did y' change y'r mind, mon amour?"

"Hey, hold on... I know what that means!" Bobby said triumphantly. "My love?"

"Très bon!" Remy wished Bobby would join him. The cold was slithering back in to his bones.

"So, do you love me?" Bobby asked and crept towards Remy across the bed.

Uncertain, Remy licked his lips. Did he really love Bobby? Merde! Why did everything have to happen this fast? Examining his feelings, he discovered a strong attraction towards Bobby and more importantly... passion. "Oui, je vous aime."

"That better be a yes!" Bobby growled playfully, no longer doubting Remy's affirmation as Gambit's emotions slowly flowed in to his mind. "That's a definite yes."

"Oui." Remy sighed as Bobby opened his arms and he quickly moved in to them. His body was surprisingly warm for an Iceman. Remy rested his head against Bobby's chest.

Quickly, Bobby pulled up the blankets and then stared at the ceiling. Some part of his brain still hadn't registered the fact that he was holding a man in his arms and not a woman. Remy was in his arms and suddenly the world was a much brighter place to live in. "Remy?"

"Oui?" he replied in a sleep heavy voice. Snuggling closer, he wrapped his arms around his new lover and listened to his steady heartbeat. Bobby had completely surprised him, but he wasn't complaining!

"I love you too," Bobby whispered and Remy released a smothered chuckle. "What?"

"I never t'ought someone would ever again tell me dat," Remy admitted honestly.

"You still feel cold though," Bobby stated worried.

"Then use y' body heat to warm me." Remy couldn't help making the innocent remark, but his senses told him Bobby didn't think it was so innocent. "Cher, just hold me," Remy said and relished the feel of those arms around his waist. This felt surprisingly right!

"Awright," Bobby stuttered and caressed a lock of auburn hair that had slipped between his fingers. Listening closely to Remy's breathing, he realized the Cajun had fallen asleep.

The End